Oceans Between Us
by raaeebrucee
Summary: Triple H is a ruthless man who will do whatever it takes to remain in control. So when his power is threatened by men who call themselves The Shield, he asks his step-sister Kenna Swan for a favour; break The Shield. More importantly? Break Roman Reigns. [Roman/OC] [kayfabe compliant, non-PG era]
1. Watch Me Rise

**hello hello hello, my beautiful friends. okay, so, until very recently, i was so convinced that i was never going to be writing a Roman/OC fic, but here we are and here we go... and i'm kinda in love with it already, so A++ for me. (i know the whole 'related to the game' thing has been done a kazillion times already, but i wanted to go with a different kind of approach, which you'll be able to piece together once you've finished this opening chapter, and unlike my other fics, this one is NOT a slow burn, so that's gonna be fun too)**

 **also, i'm just gonna warn you right now before we start— _KENNA IS NOT A GOOD PERSON_. she may have good qualities, but she is _not_ a good person. now that that's out of the way, read and enjoy! (and p.s, if you know my style as a writer, you know this won't be a fluffy/happy/easy read; so read at your own risk)**

 **rae x**

* * *

 **CHAPTER ONE**

 _Hunter was pacing around the office, turning one way and then another, completely ignoring the gaze of his wife._

 _"Hunter?" Stephanie said softly, reaching a hand out towards him._

 _"She's back."_

 _As if those two words weren't ominous enough for Stephanie, the way that Hunter looked at her said everything that she needed to know. But she still had to check. "What?"_

 _"Kenna"_

 _She blanched at the name, clenched her hands together. "Your step-sister?"_

 _"The only."_

 _And, well, they were all fucked then._

 _Stephanie ducked her head, caught her husbands gaze, then threw her arms out. "I'm sorry, but wasn't she off in a detention camp somewhere, Hunter? Can we even let her into this building?"_

 _"She's family, Steph. I can't exactly say no to her," he said, resigned to the fact that there was nothing he could do to keep her out._

 _Again, Stephanie tried to talk some sense into him. "Hunter, she will turn this place upside down until she gets exactly what it is that she wants—"_

 _"You don't think I know that?" The Game snapped. He turned his head to stare at the woman, then rubbed the back of his bald head with an agitated hand._

 _"How are you planning to handle her, then?"_

 _"I don't have a clue."_

—

Kenna Swan had never really been subject to butterflies in her stomach. _Sure_ , there was that time in fifth grade where the principal had called her up onto stage because she was distracting him, but it didn't really count. Or maybe that time when she'd been walking down the aisle at her father's wedding— still, it had nothing on the anxiety currently surging through her veins.

Fuck, she couldn't even keep still.

She was sitting on some fold out black chair near the entrance ramp and her leg was bouncing, up and down and up and down, her teeth worrying her bottom lip and _honestly_ , she shouldn't have been this nervous.

Yet here she was. A complete fucking mess.

 _Jesus_.

"You alright, ma'am?"

What she didn't want to admit was that the man's chesty voice had scared the _fuck_ out of her, but it looked like he'd seen her involuntary jump anyway. "Fine," she finally remarked.

"Seem a little nervous to me, is all."

And _of course_ she knew just who the fuck she was talking to, but God, she didn't even care. "Of course I'm fuckin' nervous."

But he didn't relent. His intimidating figure slid onto the chair next to her, but his body was angled so that it was open to hers. Like some kind of invitation for her to come closer. She shifted away a little. "This your first night? I haven't seen you around before, and nothing much these days is kept a secret."

"First night," Kenna confirmed as she eyed him suspiciously. "I haven't been around much at all. It was a last minute thing, papers signed Friday, flew in this morning."

"You gotta be pretty good if they're debuting you straight away." He hummed to himself and then held out a beefy arm with an open hand attached to it, face splitting into a charming smile. "Roman Reigns, nice to meet you."

She stared at the outstretched hand until it dropped away slowly. "I know."

The smirk across his lips didn't fade, and she had to hand it to him— he wasn't perturbed in the slightest by her cold shoulder. "Not gonna introduce yourself, baby girl?"

The pet name was said in a teasing tone and part of her softened to him automatically, his obvious confidence after being pushed away a trait she found easy to like. He thought he was the shit; the top dog. At least some part of that belief was right, anyway.

So Kenna smirked back at him. "Baby girl will do just fine. Though, I'm not really either of those, am I?" She twisted in the seat and crossed on leg over the other, tilted her head a little to the side, and then watched satisfied when his stormy grey eyes trailed the length of her neck and then slipped down to her smooth thighs. "Kenna Swan."

His eyes locked back on hers and there was that telltale curve of his lips. He had absolutely no fucking idea what was about to happen.

"Reigns!"

Almost like he was snapped out of a trance, the Samoan twisted his head around to stare at his brown haired teammate, and Kenna let her eyes trail the champion's impressive stature. Not too buff, just the right amount of athleticism in his toned muscles, messy curls. Dean Ambrose— hard to miss.

"Duty calls," Kenna said softly, and Roman was back staring at her again. "Time to go beat up the baddies."

She let go of a breath she didn't realise she was holding as soon as the tattooed man was out of sight and slumped back into her chair, fiddled with the fresh burgundy nail polish, checked the time.

 _Ten minutes._

And _fuck_ did ten minutes pass slow when she was as anxious as she was, and her hands were still shaking as she was given her cue. But she wrapped them around the lengthy handle of a sledgehammer and slung it over her shoulder, nodded to the stagehand. Breathed out slowly as her theme began to sound throughout an eerily silent arena.

As soon as her name flashed across the tron, there was instant booing. At least some of these people knew her background.

With the sledgehammer resting easy, Kenna began her walk down the ramp, purposeful steps drawing her closer to the six-man tag match which had halted the moment she started moving. They were confused, possibly, and Bray Wyatt's face was split in a grin that looked as terrifying as his lamb follower.

She moved around the squared circle, sending a little kiss and wave to the commentary team, and then she could hear Michael Cole's voice. "And that is _definitely_ Kenna Swan, ladies and gentleman, one of the most revered female competitors gracing the wrestling industry today— but what on _earth_ is she doing out here?!"

The Wyatt's and The Shield were in opposite corners but had much the same reaction to her presence— they were both perplexed and suspicious.

Kenna deliberately and slowly moved herself into the ring, turned so that she was staring at the bearded men with contempt, and then lowered the weapon from her shoulder to place it in front of her, leaning on the handle a little.

"This match is over," she announced calmly, her lips curved in a smile. Almost like this situation was amusing to her. "Get out or I'll swing this at your mouth— can't preach if you have no teeth."

Blue eyes narrowed at her. But slowly, Bray Wyatt and his family vacated the ring, and then Kenna was staring at the referee who had been trying to talk to her.

"You too. Get out. This match is done."

Though they'd booed her earlier, the crowd was now loud in their confused murmurs, trying to figure out who exactly this woman in front of them was and what it was she wanted. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before; ripped black shorts, black cropped shirt with multiple chains hanging from her neck, black suede thigh-high boots which had her over six foot. Her fingers were covered in rings, left arm held by a gold cuff, hazel green eyes accented by the intense smoky green eye makeup. Wavy brown hair, straight chin… and _God_ , did she look like hell on heels.

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are?" It was the half blonde one, Rollins, but her eyes hadn't left Roman's.

Her hands slid the microphone out of her pocket. "Who the hell do I think I am? My name is Kenna Swan. Or, until I very recently had my name changed to something that was just a little more… _me_ , people used to call me Helmsley." There was silence as the three men looked at her and the murmuring got louder. "See, now, I know those faces. You're thinkin' to yourselves ' _it can't be_ ', you're thinkin' that _no_ , I couldn't _possibly_ be related to that heap of flesh sittin' out the back probably going off his rocker because his little sister has taken over his show. And thank the _Lord_ that we only share the same screw-up of a father, 'cause God knows if we had the same slut of a mother I'd be a lost cause.

"See, we have something in common. We both hate my brother—" A heavy guitar riff almost seemed to shake the entire arena and Kenna smirked as her eyes moved from Reigns to Hunter Hearst Helmsley. "Speak of the devil…"

The man in question was red in the face, angry in a way that the universe had only seen a handful of times. "Kenna, I don't know what you're planning to achieve out here right now, but I swear to all that's Holy if you don't get your ass up here right now—"

"Oooh," she cooed down the microphone, "how scary, big brother already throwing out the threats."

"This isn't a game, either you walk up here yourself or I'll have security remove you from this arena."

Kenna let her head drop to the side as she watched uniformed security guards step out from the behind the tron, and much to her surprise, Reigns took a threatening step away from her and towards _them_. Like he was protecting her. _How noble_.

"Only six?" Kenna cackled, shook her head. "Have you forgotten who you're dealing with, Hunter?"

"Kenna, I will _not_ ask you again—"

"Why so serious?"

The following words fell on deaf ears. Stuffing the microphone back into her pocket, Kenna waltzed forward until she had her fingers curled into Dean Ambrose's vest, tugging him around until he was staring down at her in surprise, and then her other hand was around his neck, holding him in place. Kenna pushed up as much as she could until her mouth was pressed against his.

Shocked cries from the audience fell across the arena and Kenna smirked against Dean's mouth, but the shocked noise that surprised her was her own— his muscly arms had curled around her body, tugged her against him harshly in a way that had her gasping, and then his tongue pushed into her mouth as he deepened the kiss.

 _Holy fuck, okay_.

Not only was she hyper aware of the entire world watching, she was aware of Roman's eyes now boring into the side of her head, and— and that was _odd_ , especially since she didn't care what anyone else thought.

When she broke away from the lunatic fringe, Kenna made sure her mouth was curved in a smile and that her eyes were locked onto Triple H's.

The microphone was back in her grasp as she forcefully shoved Ambrose away from her. "I got what I came here for."

With that, the woman stepped past the shocked Shield members and leapt from the ring, waltzing back towards her furious step-brother, but her feet carried her away from the ramp and to the side of the stage before he could stop her.

And seconds later, cameras and a man were following her retreat into the depths of the arena.

"Kenna— Miss Swan, if we could grab a word—" the interviewer tried, and Kenna spun quickly with the same devil's smirk on her lips.

"You can grab many words."

He stumbled at that, frowning. "…the WWE Universe must be very confused right now—"

Kenna laughed. "Because of me?"

"—because of what just transpired on RAW. Would you care to explain your actions?" The man asked tentatively.

"Really, it's simple—" Kenna broke off and tilted her head, frowned. "Who are you?"

He seemed to shrink under her gaze. "Tom Philips."

"Really, _Tom_ , my explanation is simple. Hunter, the good old man that he is, tried to keep me away from his most prized possession. Which, of course, is the WWE. He stole my family, so now I'm going to steal his love. My _actions_ tonight are because I wanted to make an impact. And I mean, anyone who knows one plus one knows that Hunter ordered that hit on The Shield a few weeks back, so obviously they're gonna be on the same page as I am. And, c'mon! They're the most dominant faction in wrestling at the moment, I wanted to see them up close and personal—"

"But didn't you go a bit far kissing Dean Ambrose…?"

"Of course I kissed him! How else do you think they're going to realise I'm not messing around?" She laughed again. "The point is that I made an impact. And thanks to me, The Shield now know that Hunter doesn't trust them anymore."

"Like you said, though, The Shield are the most _dominant_ faction in the WWE. Don't you expect backlash? Both against you and against your brother?"

"Are you stupid?" Kenna actually seemed shocked on top of being amused. "Of course they're going to lash out! But, _Tom_ , this is all part of a bigger plan, okay? Trust the hell raiser. Because that's what I'm here to do. Raise hell." She nodded at her words, pursed her lips, and seemingly satisfied, turned her back to the camera.

—

Kenna was sat in a chair, her smooth thighs thrown over the top of the arm rest, fingers entwined and hands clasped across her stomach. She looked like she was examining the ties on the back of her boots. Across from her, Hunter had his back turned and was looking down at his phone.

"Can't keep me locked in here forever, H," the woman threw a look over her shoulder and smirked at Triple H.

"You realise Swan is not your last name—"

"Actually, I have legal documentation that _shows_ my name switch."

He glared at her. "Kenna, you were _born_ a Helmsley and you will always _be_ a Helmsley."

"The moment I refer to myself as a Helmsley will be the day I die."

The COO had fully turned now to stare at the younger woman. His hands were in his pockets, eyes narrowed. "What are you doing here, Kenna? From what I heard, you were just dropping by. This isn't permanent and yet here you are acting like it is."

Kenna just snorted at him and swung her legs over onto the floor, stood so that she was closer to eye level. "Oh, _please_ , Hunter, you and I both know I'm not going away anytime soon. And my business here is no one's but my own."

"Ken, you can't just walk in here and expect me to give you everything," Hunter said tersely, "Behind the scenes, I worked my _ass_ off to get where I am, I fought tooth and nail to be standing here as the COO, I wasn't just _handed_ everything on a silver platter—"

Reaching forward, Kenna grabbed his tie and pulled it out of the buttoned blazer, turned her nose at the expensive looking suit. "So you didn't sleep with the boss's daughter, huh?" She laughed, pouted her lips and shook her head. "No, you did all of what you just said _and_ slept your way in. Hunter, I'm just here to have a little fun… upset the established order, raise some anarchy—"

Triple H looked like he wanted to bang his head against a wall. "You're either here to _wrestle_ or you can get a job helping out the talent, and if you're not doing that, you can leave."

She made a noise akin to an 'aw' and tilted her head, his tie long forgotten. "You'd kick your own sister out?"

"I swear, Kenna, _don't_ test me."

"Touché, H." Kenna chucked a look over her shoulder and sighed. "Maybe I'll become a manager. Promote Daniel Bryan. Or shadow Paul Heyman." The look that crossed Hunter's face was beyond priceless to Kenna and she cracked a grin, stuck a tongue out. "I dunno, H, I'll just do whatever I want whenever I want."

Kenna sent her older brother one last little grin before ducking out of frame, leaving the COO dragging a hand down his exasperated face.

No sooner had she left than the exasperated members of The Shield stormed in.

"Where is she?" Dean Ambrose asked, his mouth crooked in an aroused smile. "C'mon, Trips, you honestly expect me to let that kiss go?"

With a hand at Dean's chest, the two-toned man pushed him back softly. "Not the time, Dean, c'mon, man—"

"Let it go," Triple H commanded, obviously showing no interest in adding fuel to the fire. "Just let it go. She's my sister and if _any_ of you even lay a finger on her—"

"That's the least I'm gonna do when I—"

" _Look_ ," Rollins said as he stepped forwards, blocking Dean's view of the now _angry_ COO. "This is a one time thing. If she throws out our match again, the least she'll have to worry about is the consequences you're going to give her. Keep her away from us, alright? We don't want any part in her games."

But Triple H's eyes were on the brooding Roman Reigns. "What've you got to say, Reigns?"

The Samoan's nostrils flared out and his chin raised, grey eyes turning steely. "What she said about you ordering the hit? That better just be part of her game. Or else your little sister isn't the only problem you're gonna have on your hands and you can _believe that_."

—

For the second time that night, Kenna let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding. The three Shield men stalked from her brother's office and made themselves scarce, not even looking in her direction once, and then she was poking her head back around the door frame. Camera men were packing up some lighting, putting their equipment away, and Triple H's eyes found hers with a smile.

She grinned right back.

"You sure you wanna push this whole 'blood siblings' thing?" Kenna asked slowly as she leant against the frame.

"It's a complicated thing to try and explain to the world that we're not related by blood," Hunter responded easily. "We could go down the whole step-siblings path, but then that's not much fun. We'll push this angle until we get what we want."

Kenna found the corners of her mouth lifting. "And what do we want, exactly?"

"The destruction of The Shield."

A little laugh pushed it's way from her chest and she shook her head, smiled. "I think I'm understanding why they call you the Cerebral Assassin now. You don't think you're going too far with this?"

"Not at all," Hunter shook his head, "and if they're half as smart as they think they are, they won't let you get between them."

"We'll see. I play a pretty convincing love interest when I want to," she said, and then clapped her hands together, standing upright with her shoulders back. " _Anyway_ , this all you wanted me here for tonight?"

"Yeah. Get yourself to the hotel and we'll fly the jet out to get you in the morning."

"Sir, yes sir."

Kenna bid her goodbyes and turned on her heel, sauntered her way back to the room they'd set her up in. Her hands were up in her hair, releasing the dark locks from a messy bun at the base of her neck, and as she shook the curls out, she couldn't help but feel a million dollars.

It had a lot to do with the fact that her father married into the Helmsley line and that she'd grown up idolising her step brother, the natural born wrestler, and low-key followed in his footsteps. In fact, she'd never really had a name for herself until she dropped the Helmsley title she didn't deserve— after that, people stopped trying to make her out as some Triple H wannabe and started looking at her like she was her own person.

But she still had a long way to go when it came to the 'E.

* * *

 **make sure you let me know what you think, i love all of your thoughts and opinions!**


	2. All This Could Be Yours

It was three in the morning when Kenna jerked awake with a pounding head.

Automatically her mind went to the cup of water that she always had by her bedside table, but it was pretty much empty and her throat was slowly drying out. _Fuck_.

Getting herself to the hotel had been no problem, but the reception had stuffed up her room and put her in this— _tiny_ box with no air-conditioning. And now her head felt like it was being pulled apart by a bulldozer as subtle as a buzzing mosquito. Never again. _Never again_.

Scooping her hair up into a loose top knot, Kenna pulled a baby blue button down around her shoulders and slipped her arms into the silk material, then fumbled her glasses onto her nose. She made sure she had her keycard in the side of her bra and double checked that it wouldn't slip out, then grabbed one of the room's white cups and stepped out into the dimly lit hallway, making her way towards an ice vending machine.

It wasn't often that she was awake in the early hours of the morning, but somehow the calmness of everyone either sleeping or being elsewhere was soothing on her frazzled soul.

But that feeling didn't last for long.

Almost subconsciously she could feel someone slowly walking towards her. Instantly she regretted not doing the buttons up on her nightshirt and gripped the fabric tightly in her free hand, the other only just slipping under the ice chute. She didn't press the button. Instead, Kenna turned her head to regard the Samoan walking towards her, raised an eyebrow when he stopped short a couple of metres away and leant against the wall.

"Just gonna stand there and stare at me?"

"Tempting," was his low reply, and Kenna felt the noise travel down her spine. "Just tryin' to figure you out."

She grinned without humour. "What is there to figure out? I have a headache, I'm getting ice."

"You know what I'm talking about."

"Enlighten me."

Stormy grey eyes stayed locked on hers and then he was smirking, shaking his head. "That stunt you pulled on RAW last night— that why you were so nervous?"

Kenna pulled her bottom lip between her teeth. "That and because the Wyatt's are some scary motherfuckers. And because I knew Hunter was going to lose it when I called his mother a slut."

"Can't argue with that," Roman chuckled. "How bad is the blood between you and your brother? I worked for him for the past year and a bit and never once did he mention he had a little sister. Or talk about any of his family, for that matter."

Sucking in a deep breath, Kenna turned to face the machine and pressed the crushed ice button, waiting until it started to fall before answering the Shield member. "Don't suppose he'd talk a lot about the family he pulled apart. Never liked me as a kid because my father realised what exactly his mother was and then left her, and he had this genius idea to try and separate my parents because he liked dad just a little too much." She turned to regard him again and then raised a blasé shoulder. "He's got daddy issues."

"You here to get some kind of revenge then?"

"Me?" Kenna snorted. "Revenge? Revenge is child's play. I'm here to take over."

Slowly, her fingers dropped from the cup and she stepped away from the machine, her chin raising to look up at Roman as she closed the gap between them. "Humour me. Imagine, for a moment, that the Authority ceased to exist. That the only person you had to answer to was a mere woman who only wanted to do better than her fuck up of a brother. Imagine there were no McMahon's, no Helmsley's, no Guerrero's. Just _me_. Now imagine," Kenna raised her palms and laid them just under Roman's clavicles, let her fingers curl around his shoulders, and his eyes were burning into the skin of her arms, "imagine the WWE World Heavyweight Titles draped across your shoulders, that gold you've been striving for your entire career finally yours."

His hand caught one of her wrists and hazel eyes flickered up to his lighter greys. "And you're gonna make that happen?"

"I'll make your wildest dreams come true."

An inaudible gasp slipped from Kenna's lips when Roman placed a cool hand at the base of her spine, and this close, without heels, she had to arch her head back to hold his gaze.

"What's the catch?" He whispered.

"You gotta be my man," her voice was nothing more then a breathless murmur. "No Shield, no one but you and me. Protect me, fight for me, support me. I'm gonna take everything from him, but I need to know that I have someone worthy at my side."

Roman's grey eyes darted between hers as he mulled over the words. And slowly his head lowered, his eyes half lidded, and Kenna felt this surge of energy in her body. He was so close their noses were brushing, his breath washing over her wet lips, and almost like she had no control her lids slipped shut.

Time seemed to still. Her heart pushed itself into her throat.

But when she went to press their mouths together— Roman inched back slightly. She gazed at him through narrowed eyes.

"No deal," he murmured softly, "The Shield and I are a package. It's all of us or none of us."

"Think they're going to approve you wearing the pants?"

"They'll have their own gold. Get them in line for the Tag Titles and then we'll talk about it."

An amused and impressed smirk pulled the corner of Kenna's mouth up. "Are you bargaining with me, Roman Reigns?"

"We got nothing to lose. Do you?"

With a raised eyebrow, she pushed herself out of his grasp and back towards the machine, grabbed her full cup of ice and sidestepped past him. But she paused then, gazed over her shoulder to meet Roman's intense stare. "I'll get them their match. In the mean time, keep your eyes peeled. I might need you sooner than you think."

—

Finding her way to the airport was easy enough, and Hunter had set up some security to make sure that there was no way anyone could see her or make connections. The arena was another story altogether.

The traffic trying to get there was insane and by the time her driver had parked, the show had already started. She was glad she'd taken the time to get ready on the plane. Her hazel eyes were accented by the smokey green eyeshadow and the moss green top she was wearing, but over that was a black leather jacket, and black denim shorts barely covered the tattoo on her thigh. And, because she was naturally tall, the platformed ankle boots put her just under six foot.

Stephanie was the one to greet her at the backdoor.

"Kenna! The traffic must have been insane— don't worry about that, we need to get you set up to go out there."

She didn't even have a chance to respond before a paper was shoved under her nose. "Wait, wait, Steph—"

"No, we need to—"

"Stephanie!" Kenna almost yelled, and the other woman stopped automatically and turned to regard her. "I need to speak to Hunter, there's been a change in how things are gonna go down."

And now Stephanie was looking at her like she'd grown a second head.

Kenna sighed. "Just tell me where he is."

"In his office…"

"I'll see you later, boss woman."

Apparently, sauntering around back-of-house hallways was a thing that she was supposed to pick up extremely easily. But she couldn't for the life of her get out of this endless loop that she was walking in, and for _fucks_ sake, the show would be finished by the time she got to his office.

So instead, Kenna pulled her cell from the back shorts and dialled his number, pressed the phone to her ear.

"—Kenna, where are you?"

"Dunno, I'm lost."

He sighed down the line and she didn't bother covering her smile. "Stephanie said something changed—"

"It's gonna take me a bit longer than I expected. And I need a few favours, too. Give the other two a chance to become to number one contenders for the tag titles, but make sure Kane goes down and attacks them, 'cause that'll set up their WrestleMania match." Kenna was rambling, and she _knew_ she was, but there were ideas almost exploding out of her brain. "Also, tell Kane to go down as Corporate Kane and give me his mask, I'm gonna go out and wave it in front of his face afterwards. Maybe hit him."

There was silence for a long moment and just as Kenna was about to ask whether he was still there, Triple H hummed his approval. "All right, I'll make it happen. We'll put Ambrose and Rollins in a match against the Uso's, Reigns will be ringside. Any news on that front?"

"Three months. Maybe less. He doesn't wanna budge on the whole _brothers in arms_ thing, but I can think of a few ways to get myself between them."

"Good," Hunter affirmed, "they've got enough power as it is already and I'm not letting them weasel The Authority out of business."

"That's not gonna happen, Hunter, as least not while I'm around."

"That's what I like to hear. Alright, go let them know and I'll find Kane. Oh— and be safe, would ya? It's nice havin' you around again."

Kenna smiled at the tenderly brother tone and gazed over her shoulder. Her blood ran cold. "Yeah, yeah, okay. I'll see you after the show."

Turning fully around to face the three men walking towards her, the brunette tried to make the blush on her face disappear. The corner of Dean Ambrose's mouth curved.

"You excited to see us, darlin'? You're looking a bit flushed in the cheeks."

"Yeah? I wonder why, when I'm running around an endless arena probably going in circles," Kenna shot back quickly, her eyes narrowed.

Dean smirked right back at her. "Need to get anywhere?"

"Honestly? I was looking for you lot."

That peaked all their interests, but Dean's smirk was still heavy. "I think we outta talk about what happened—"

Kenna ignored him, instead looked at Rollins. "Whatever you have tonight's been scrapped. Apparently my darling brother wants to _reward_ you by giving you a title match against the Uso's in the main event. You and Ambrose, that is." Finally her eyes shifted to the Samoan man and her head tilted to the side, an eyebrow raised. "No catches, no anything. Just a simple tag match."

"As a reward?"

"Somehow having to deal with me warrants a reward to keep you on his good side," she remarked. "That, and he doesn't want you to believe that he had anything to do with Kane carrying out that hit on you a few weeks back. Something about humbling cocky talent."

"The only reward we need is another kiss—"

Roman snapped out a "shut up, Dean," before the Ohioan could continue.

"The next time I kiss you is probably the next time I'm drunk and desperate," Kenna shot at him, "and don't get your hopes up, because I don't drink."

"I could change that—"

"Dean, shut up!"

With an exasperated sigh, Dean locked his jaw and turned his cheek, gazing over Seth's shoulder with a pout that, despite his attitude, looked cute. Kenna couldn't stop her small grin.

"Look, I'm just here to let you know what's goin' on, okay? Hope you guys get a win, you deserve it."

Kenna was walking away from them before anything else could happen. Yet, she could feel Roman's intense gaze trailing after her figure, the man probably still trying to figure her out. From the looks of their immediate reactions, the Samoan hadn't mentioned their little discussion from this morning at all. She threw a glance over her shoulder and met his eyes with a little wink.

He was already playing right into her hand.

—

Just like she'd told Triple H, the moment Kane made his presence known, Kenna wrapped her nimble fingers around the red mask that Stephanie had placed inside a glass box and bolted towards the main stage, didn't even wait for the sound of her music before snatching a microphone off the table.

But by the time she got ringside, it was too late. Kane had chokeslammed Reigns onto the padded floor and laid his hands on Dean and Seth, essentially disqualifying the Uso twins and giving The Shield the win (even if it was just collateral damage).

He was about to deliver his third and final assault to Rollins when Kenna threw herself between the ropes and thrust the mask into his face.

And he stopped automatically, his eyes darkening.

"Where'd you get that?"

"The point is that I have it," she huffed at him, and somehow she felt the twins leave the ring with their titles without even seeing it. "And the next point is that you want it. C'mon, let him go, let's have some fun."

Kane let the half blonde man go and almost instantaneously, his fingers were tight around her wrist tugging her closer to him, and the noise of protest was picked up easily by the microphone under her chin. Kenna raised her head. "What are you gonna do, chokeslam me? Where's that gonna get you?"

The man didn't even flinch when Triple H's theme boomed through the arena.

"Kane!" He screamed into his own mic, "Don't you _dare_ try anything! The moment you hurt a hair on her head—"

" _Shut up!_ " Kenna yelled.

Like she controlled the entire arena, every single person fell silent at her words. "You want your mask back, Kane? Take it. But you're _done_ out here, you've done enough damage, and all _your_ actions have done is spark the idea of brutal retaliation. And if you hurt me right now, my brother won't be the only one after your blood."

His fingers slowly dropped from her wrist and he took a step back, finally raised his eyes from the mask to her own. "Good. Now get out and take this stupid thing with you."

It was only when Kane was up at the ramp with Triple H that she raised the microphone back to her mouth. "Oh, and Kane? If you _dare_ lay your filthy hands on me again, I'm going to kick your nose through the back of your skull. We clear?"

She could see him mouth 'we're clear' from where she stood. Her brother looked at her inquisitively, but Kenna chose instead to pointedly look away to what was happening inside the ring she was standing in. Seth, recovered and now shifting his eyes between where she was stood and where Triple H was leaving, was helping Ambrose to unsteady feet, and behind them Roman Reigns was struggling to stand as well.

The microphone slipped from her hands and before she realised what she was doing, Kenna slid her way from the ring to wrap an arm around the big dog's waist, tried to steady him as best as she could.

"I couldn't get out here fast enough," she said, almost in a tone that was like an apology, and Roman's hand lifted to the side of her head, ruffled her hair softly.

"Don't worry about it, baby girl. We shoulda known this would be a trap."

Reigns stumbled a bit on one of his steps and Kenna found herself with a hand at his torso for more stability. "Don't go collapsing on me, yeah?"

"Makin' me look weak," he laughed lowly, "need a woman's help to walk."

"You'd need a man's help to walk after that chokeslam," was her even reply. "I mean, Rollins is pretty much carrying Ambrose, look at them."

When he followed her line of site, he snorted at the pair— Ambrose was trying to walk on his own and failing miserably and Seth was left to catch him and walk him around the side of the tron entrance, and slowly but surely, she and Roman were following them.

"You didn't tell them."

She raised an eyebrow and her eyes to meet the Samoan's gaze. Then, he shook his head. "There was nothing to talk about. We're done."

"You're done?" Kenna asked after a pause.

"Done working for him. Your brother is a spineless coward who hides behind others carrying out his orders. He has a problem with us but he's not doin' a damn thing about it, just making it so much worse. So, yeah, Kenna, we're done."

And, well— she didn't know how to respond to that.

By the time they reached The Shield's locker room, Roman was limping by himself without any aid from Kenna, and she was more than ready to excuse herself when Roman locked a hand around her arm.

"You, uh… you wanna go out to lunch sometime?"

A giggle slipped past Kenna's lips as she gazed across at him. "Are you asking me on a date, Roman Reigns?"

"Are you gonna say yes?"

"Possibly," she smiled and placed a hand on her hip, tilted her head a little to the side. "Maybe. I mean, if you were asking me on a date I'd inform you of some conditions."

Now, Roman was grinning back at her. "Conditions?"

"No movie theatre, no walks on the beach— I don't do cliché, it makes me cringe."

"Any hints for a man in need?"

Kenna hummed to herself and chewed on her bottom lip. "Keep it low-key. I don't need a football stadium hired out so we can get to know each other a bit better." Laughter rumbled out of his chest at that, and she grinned proudly, raised a hand to squeeze his arm. "It's a date, big dog, not anything special. Don't stress."

"No stress," he repeated, and that smile was still wide on his face.

"I'm in room 2204. Come and find me tomorrow and we'll exchange numbers, maybe go grab a coffee…" Kenna trailed off suggestively and pushed onto the tips of her toes so that she was almost eye level with him. "And don't worry about Kane or Hunter or anything— we'll deal with that on Monday, okay?"

And slowly, so he wouldn't pull away from her as he did last time, Kenna pressed her lips to his cheek and let them linger there for a moment before she smiled.

She didn't meet his eyes as she pulled away.

* * *

 **i apologise for the lengthy wait for this and if any of you are reading my Dean/Bobbi fic, i really do apologise for the wait on that one as well**

 **thanks for the comments of support, hope you enjoyed this one :)**


	3. Magnets

**Magnets**

She shouldn't have been nervous for this to happen. It was a date that wasn't really a date because she _didn't like him_. Not like that, anyway. She couldn't afford to when her whole purpose of getting this job was to destroy his life. Well— part of it. A big part of it. And it shouldn't have felt as satisfying as it did when he played right into her hands.

She supposed that there should have been just a little bit of guilt, and maybe— maybe there was… she didn't care. Boyfriends were overrated and so were men and that was probably the only thing she'd learnt from her mother.

Maybe she'd find a sperm donor if she ever wanted kids. And part of her, this small, tiny part of her heart fluttered a little when she imagined getting married.

But she was twenty five. And, at the most, she still had ten years ahead of her.

It was closer to four in the afternoon when a rapture of knuckles sounded across her hotel room door.

Instead of doing some kind of mossy green eyeshadow like she usually did, Kenna had opted for a more natural look of just a matte pale pink eyeshadow and winged eyeliner. Outside of the ring, her style was more toned down, more simplistic. A white shirt, ripped straight leg jeans kept in place with a black belt, black pointed pumps, a dark turquoise blazer, a maroon off-the-shoulder handbag— was smart casual the word for it? Either way, she'd been ready since two. (Not that she'd ever tell anyone that.)

And when she opened the door, Roman looked just as dapper, dressed in a pale blue button up— sleeves rolled up to the elbows— and dark jeans, hair, of course, tied up. Kenna would be lying if she said she liked it up better.

"Hey."

There was a smile on his lips but not once did his eyes leave hers. "Hey. Ready to go?"

"Got something worth spending time with you for?"

Roman's smirk was the only thing Kenna needed as reassurance and her face split into a grin then, eyes crinkling. "I have a few things up my sleeve."

He reached an arm out and she looped hers through it, securing the door shut behind them as they walked away from the elevators and towards another hotel room and suddenly, Kenna was very confused. "Did you forget something?"

"Nope."

When he offered nothing more, Kenna kept her mouth shut as well.

Not for long, though.

"So, seriously— what do you have planned?"

Roman raised a blasé shoulder and slipped the keycard into his hotel room door, glanced back over at her. "How do you feel about steak?"

"Uh… _steak?_ " And _really_ , she was stumped. Her face showed it too, because then all she could see was his bright, toothy smile. "As in like, the food steak…?"

Kenna trailed off as her eyes dropped onto the dining table in the centre of the room.

It was simplistic, exactly what she'd ask for, the table set for the two of them with a beautiful glass of red wine waiting for her. And really, Kenna wasn't picky with alcohol— because whatever got her slightly buzzed was good shit, but the bottle that Roman had picked looked exotic and intriguing (she may have let slip a white lie when she told Dean she didn't drink; she just didn't get _drunk_ ).

"You're cooking for me?"

Her voice was both confused and in doubt, and she didn't realise how close behind her the Samoan was until she turned around, eyes at his mouth instead of his pale irises, and she saw with perfect clarity the way they curved just slightly. The pounding of her heart spiralled right down into her stomach. "Just the steak," he said slowly.

Kenna struggled to pull her gaze away from his mouth to meet his stare, grinning a little as her mind worked faster than her body. "Hope you know I'm a fantastic cook, Roman. No pressure or anything."

"Just gotta prove that I'm better, don't I?"

For the longest moment, Kenna couldn't think. The man standing in front of her was absolutely magnetic and intense in a way that she couldn't comprehend and it was already beginning to mess around with her frazzled mind. Because, really, what she needed was to fall hopelessly in lust with the enemy while she was trying to break his career.

Another smirk tugged at her lips. "You've never tasted my cooking, but if you had— you'd agree that I'm untouchable."

His face split into a smile and he finally sidestepped around her, handed her the glass of wine, walked over to check on the sizzling meat, and quietly as she could, Kenna let out a very shaky breath.

Kicking off her heels, Kenna walked barefoot around the kitchen counter and leant against the one opposite to where he was cooking.

"So tell me a bit about yourself, Roman Reigns."

"Not much to know," he said easily, and Kenna could hear the smirk in his voice. "Grew up in Pensacola with my family, drafted for football at two different clubs before I screwed up my back— wrestling was a very good escape for me at the time, and it became my passion. So, here I am." He'd turned around to regard her halfway through, mimicking the way she was leant against the bench. "What about you? Apart from what I already know, I guess."

"Apart from what you already know?" She hummed thoughtfully and took a sip of the wine, purposefully kept her eyes on the ground. "I was in a correctional camp when I was a kid, just before I came here as well—" and she broke off into a laugh at the way Roman's eyebrows hit his hairline. "The first time was because I went for a joyride, the second time was because I volunteered to run a course. I guess I enjoy long walks on the beach, red wine, good meat…" Kenna trailed off again and raised her eyes to meet his, tilted her head a little to the left. "You're going pretty well so far."

She could feel the waves of tension rolling off of him as he stared at her with those stormy grey eyes, and Kenna felt the hairs on her skin raise in arousal. Again. And he hadn't even done anything except stare at her.

"This is supposed to be a date, y'know," Kenna spoke softly, and not one word out of her mouth was teasing— she was being completely serious. "I didn't come here to sleep with you."

Roman stepped closer to her anyway.

"What about the steak?" Kenna voiced instead.

He shrugged. "It's still got an hour left."

 _Had he planned this?_

She didn't want to know (he probably had, and she couldn't really blame him; not with how she felt right now).

The entirety of Kenna's diaphragm seemed to constrict and she turned so she was facing away from him. Her thighs were pressed against the kitchen bench so hard that it would leave indents on her skin, but there was no where else for her to try and escape with him so close to her body. She could feel the heat radiating from the Samoan as he stood behind her, and as he placed a heavy hand against the curve of her waist, Kenna's cheeks flushed dark pink.

He was confident. She had to at least admit that his confidence was playing a big role in how her body was reacting to him, because very suddenly her heart was straining against her chest and her breath was coming much quicker.

"All you gotta do is say no," Roman whispered, and with a start Kenna realised that his mouth was right next to her ear, warm breath washing over her hair.

Kenna's mouth was moving before she could stop it. "I don't think I'm ever going to say no to you."

"You might regret saying that."

"Make me."

He spun her in his arms and the moment she stopped moving, his mouth was pressing down against hers in hungry desire. Hands pressing into the fabric of her top, arms drawing her impossibly closer to him, and Kenna found herself struggling not to jump his bones on the spot.

There was red wine on the end of his tongue and she could taste it as their lips parted, this intoxicating tingling at the back of her throat. She wanted to lose herself in him.

But she couldn't.

And even though he had a firm grip on her ass and an even tighter arm around her body, she needed to _think_. She just— she needed to think about what she was doing and what exactly she was getting herself into, what kind of hole she'd be digging herself if she slept with Roman Reigns. The very same Roman Reigns who was enemy number one. _Fuck_.

Mustering as much strength as she could, Kenna tore her mouth away from his and let her ragged breaths fill the space between them.

Roman spoke before she could. "Regretting it already?"

His voice was dark and sultry and it vibrated through his body in such a way that it sent tingles through hers. "No," she responded quickly, and then she cursed herself when she realised that she'd spoken again without really thinking about it. "I just— I just need to think."

"Can't think with your tongue in my mouth?"

She didn't reply to that and he inched a hand under her chin, raised it with a finger until she was staring right into his eyes. And then she found that she didn't _want_ to reply to him, because he was right. In some extent, at least— she couldn't think with _his_ tongue in _her_ mouth. Couldn't think with the wine burning against the back of her throat. She realised quickly as his crooked nose lowered to hers that it didn't matter what part of him was on her, she just needed all of it and all of it right now.

A cocky little smirk spread across his mouth. "What happened to making me _your_ man? You think that I'm gonna forget what you proposed to me?"

Her mouth became dry, and very suddenly she couldn't meet his stare— so instead, she dropped her gaze to his lips. "The offer still stands. If you want the titles, I can get you the titles. If you want your brothers to have gold, they're already in line for it. I can give you everything you want."

"Can you?" Roman's hand moved from her chin to the back of her neck, his fingers twisting slowly and gently in her hair and tugging it back until their mouths were just barely touching. "You want to give me everything for the price of what? Helping destroy your brother? Taking over the company? What do I have to do? I ain't making a deal with the devil until I know everything."

Kenna still couldn't think, and maybe that's what his plan was— maybe he knew that she became a mess when she was this close to his body, maybe he didn't want her to think… and maybe Roman Reigns was smarter than she gave him credit for.

Hazel eyes lifted to meet his stormy greys. "What are you gonna do when I tell you? Bend me over this bench and fuck me? Maybe _fucking me_ doesn't do a damn thing and you can still back out of our non-existent arrangement, and maybe instead it'll give us a shot of being something a little bit more than work associates. I didn't come here to sleep with you. But if you want to press me up against a bench and shove your tongue down my throat, I'll be damned if I don't jump your bones. I can give you _everything_ , but I need the opportunity and a position of power to do it. I need protection _guaranteed_. Your deal with the devil means you protect me and I'll protect _you_. It doesn't have to be perfect. It just has to work."

It was impossible for Kenna to miss the way his jaw locked or how he pulled back slightly to stare at the way her mouth moved around the word ' _fuck_ ', and maybe she saw the way his eyes darkened just a little.

So quick it pulled the breath from her lungs, Roman gripped the back off her knee in a large hand and yanked it around his waist, his hips grinding right against the meeting of her thighs. The movement was so harsh Kenna's jaw went slack, her eyes fluttering shut, and the Samoan that was crowding her didn't waste any time picking up where he'd left off. Because suddenly his tongue was back in her mouth, his arm around her waist slipping lower until his fingers were pressing into her ass.

There was no part of her body that didn't want to kiss him back, and so her hands knotted in his hair, remorselessly tugging. His hips pushed forward against hers and she could feel his hard length against underwear that was slowly drowning in her own fluids.

There was a lot of him and not enough of him all at once, but she needed more, she needed him inside of her, pushing at her limits, and she tore her mouth away from his and trailed her lips to his ear, tried to gather her breath enough to push out a raw and husky, "fuck me," and the arm that was around her waist tightened considerably.

Kenna found herself fumbling with the button to his top, but it wasn't because her hands were shaking. Roman had dug his teeth into the side of her neck, just under her ear, and was licking at her skin, sucking, biting, and there was no doubt that it would leave a fresh bruise.

But then she was pushing the button down over his shoulders, slipping her own top off, her fingers working at the buckle to his jeans, and it was rushed and imperfect and not how she'd expected this night to go. She shoved his jeans down his thighs and let him do the rest, because with authority, he'd swiped a strong arm across the bench behind her, condiments he'd placed there earlier clattering to the floor. Her pants were down next, underwear following, and she shimmied her legs as best she could— but nothing prepared her for the way his fingers curled into the flesh of her thighs and lifted her light as a feather onto his hips, his hard length shifting against her burning skin.

But short of pushing into her, Roman stopped moving. His face was flushed, just like hers, and his grey eyes were almost black with lust. Slowly, much more gently than he had done anything else, Roman Reigns set her down onto the bench and traced a finger down across her cheek.

"You only blush when you fuck someone?"

 _What?_

She— _what?!_ What kind of question was that? Kenna frowned and tightened the hold her arms had around his neck, tugged against his hair. "Does it matter?"

"I like it," he said lowly, and once more his lips were pressing to hers without kissing her. "Just need to know whether I should add fucking you to my list of 'daily things to do'."

"Why don't you find out, huh?"

The smirk that lifted the corners of his mouth almost had her eyes rolling into the back of her head. But he still didn't do anything, and she was questioning very suddenly his self control. Or her own, really. "I don't have a condom," he murmured. "But I know that I don't have any diseases. Do you have something you can take tomorrow?"

"I've got a contraceptive implant," Kenna whispered back. "Should be fine for the next three months. And— I'm clean."

"You sure?"

"Roman Reigns," she growled, " _fuck me_."

And so he did.

She wasn't prepared enough for him, and maybe how wet she was helped in some way, but Kenna gasped in a mix of raw pain and pleasure as he moved inside of her. He stopped right away, let her adjust to his size, and then pulled out slowly, and through the haze of her vision, she saw the way Roman's jaw was locked, the way his eyes were closed, and then she watched the way his muscles flexed as he began to move against her.

The muscles in her abdomen strained as he leant over her and Kenna was pushing the breath out of her lungs every time he slammed back into her, but the pace he was reaching, the quickness of his thrusts— he was already sweating with the effort, and it felt like he was using her body as a battering ram.

But it felt _good_.

The way his hands were harshly grasping at her skin, her thighs, her calves, her back, the way he was grunting and moaning into her hair, the way he was so overpowering even when her entire body was wrapped around him— it felt like sin.

Her open mouth was pressed against his shoulders and her eyes were shut, frown creasing her face, and she was digging the heels of her feet into his muscular thighs, drawing her nails down against his back, and his were busy trying to unfasten her bra. As the material fell away from her chest, the Samoan didn't waste anytime ducking down and pressing his lips around an erect nipple, a hand caressing the other one, and her very being felt like it had been set on fire.

The searing orgasm that ripped through her body had her walls clenching around him so tightly that without so much of a warning, he came inside her. She didn't much mind when she couldn't feel her toes.

Kenna was slow to lean down, the tiles cool against her skin, and it was forefront in her mind that she was spread across a hotel kitchen bench, naked, sweating, slightly shaking as she came down from the high, and Roman with his head between her breasts as he tried to catch his breath. She supposed that he'd prepared all the food on this exact table, that his stablemates had probably ate breakfast here before leaving.

She glanced down at Roman. His hair was in disarray, most of it hanging loosely where it was supposed to be pulled tight. There was a thin layer of sweat across his shoulders and she noticed with a start that there was a red mark on the muscle above his collarbone— _had she done that?_

Her fingers traced lightly over the raised skin of his tattoo. _This probably changed a lot_ , she thought as she laid her head back on the bench.

Hunter was going to kill her.

* * *

 **so i should probably apologise for the lengthy wait between updates, but blame my best friend for visiting me from interstate and getting a job and also writing Reylo? but w/e, hope you enjoy this porn without plot (even though it has a little bit of plot).**

 **let me know what you think x**


	4. What Went Down

**What Went Down**

Somehow, they'd made it to the couch. She'd pulled her underwear back on, her bra, stolen his top from his hands and demanded that he stay shirtless for the rest of their dinner, and now she was curled up on her side, his arm loosely around her shoulder.

They'd not said a word about what had just happened.

She didn't know where to start.

 _Where_ could _she start?_

"Are we gonna talk about what that was?"

And apparently, he was thinking the exact same thing as well. "I'm pretty sure that was you fucking me in the kitchen."

She wasn't lying. Not in the slightest, and he knew it too, so the words in his mouth fell short as he contemplated how to respond to her bluntness. "Was that me sealing the deal?"

"No." Kenna gazed up at him through her eyelashes. "And I'm not gonna ask you to sign on the dotted line if that's your next comment. If you agree, you agree and I'll take your word for it. Just like you trusted my word when I told you I would give Ambrose and Rollins shots for the tag titles."

Roman didn't say anything as his eyes focused back on the ceiling above him, and she thought that maybe that was the end of the conversation. It wasn't. "Kane attacked us on Tuesday. Not as the monster, but as the Director of Operations. We can take that from him. Give his position to you. You want power? That's how you get it and wield it, and with The Shield at your side, no one would stand against you. Not even your brother."

She was impressed. They called Seth the Architect, but Roman was smarter than she could have possibly imagined.

Each member of The Shield had their strengths and weaknesses. Rollins was tactically flawless, five steps ahead of everyone else, thinking of possibilities and options, and the way he moved inside the ring was akin to an agile cat — he always managed to land on his feet. Always. Ambrose was irrational in every way and was definitely, without questions asked, the wild card. And Reigns? He was graceful but a powerhouse, fluid and lithe, strong in both his mind and body. He was smart. Maybe he'd always been, or maybe it was Seth's influence on him… but this was not the man her brother warned her about.

Kenna was talking aloud before she could think twice. "The Lunatic, the Architect, and the Samoan Powerhouse… No one would even get close."

"Say that last one again."

Her eyes shifted to his, head tilting at the way his pupils were blown, his lips parted. And as sultry slow as she could, Kenna said "Samoan Powerhouse".

It was like Roman snapped. His calloused hands grabbed at her waist, shifted her entire body like she was weightless, and then set her down right on his growing erection. Kenna sucked in a loud breath and pushed her hands against his bare torso for some balance, watched through half lidded eyes as his jaw dropped.

"Again…"

His voice was barely audible, but she felt it when his knuckle brushed against her darkly flushed cheek, and had to suck her bottom lip between her teeth when his pushed his hips up against her. But then his thumb was dragging her lip back out, pulling her jaw down to where he was waiting for her, and his tongue was pressing into her open mouth. The Samoan held her waist down against him tighter, jolted himself upwards, and the shocked cry at the back of Kenna's throat had him smirking like he'd won something.

His hands were so heavy, gripping her waist so tightly she knew it would leave bruises, but that was okay— because her fingers of one hand were digging into the skin of his chest, just under his tattoo, the other gripping tightly onto his shoulder.

Open mouths were pressed together, and Kenna found that he was drinking the breath right from her lips like it was the wine waiting for them on the table. His fingers tugged unapologetically at her underwear. "These are becoming a common problem," Roman murmured, pulling away just slightly to stare at her flushed face. "Should just leave them off."

Kenna let one of her legs fall to the floor and she pushed up onto it, started to slowly unbutton the top she was wearing, let it slide from her shoulders, let her bra follow suit, and then shimmied her lace underwear down and over her hips— and now she was stood in front of him naked. She kept her gaze locked on his as he admired the way her hips curved out, the shape of her breasts, the way her thighs led to where she was wet for him.

Roman reached out with a large hand, trailed his fingers down the line of her stomach and paused just above her thighs.

A moment passed.

And then another.

"Come here."

She listened to his command and with flushed cheeks, resumed her position straddling his body, her body sinking slowly onto his hard length as she let out a soft hiss. His hands were back on her waist, fingers sinking into unmarked skin, and Kenna started to move quicker on him, shifting her hips for angle, letting her head drop back as the undeniable pleasure started to affect her body.

Exerting herself on top of him had an almost surreal reaction— Kenna's skin was already covered in a thin sheen of sweat, the flush had crawled down her chest, her toes began to tingle… fingernails were digging into Roman's stomach as she balanced herself, and she stole a glance at the way his overbearing muscles flexed and relaxed to the time of her movements.

And in that fleeting second, her knee slipped off the couch and the way her foot landed sent a jarring shock through her being— and without really having control of her own body, she clenched around him and slowed to an almost unbearable pace.

Roman's breath caught in his throat as he pushed out a " _fuck_ ", his hands grabbing her hips that much tighter. "Kenna…" he hissed.

She knew why he'd wanted her to repeat his nickname, then. The sound of her name groaned by him, voice reverberating through his entire body— she never wanted him to say anything else.

So suddenly she didn't realise what was happened, Roman had shifted so he was behind her, his arm wrapped tight around her hips, his other hand firm between her shoulder blades and pressing her down against the armrest of the couch. And when he pushed into her, a loud and unrestrained moan flew from Kenna's mouth.

His thrusts were rough and harsh and she was meeting him at each one, one of his hands knotted in her hair, the other cupping a breast as his fingers teased her nipple.

From there, it didn't take long for either of them to finish, and the white, hot bliss that eclipsed her being made Kenna forget who she was.

—

Kenna wasn't sure where she was supposed to go from here.

There was a lit cigarette hanging limply from her fingers, and she wasn't where she was. Yes— she was in the garden of Hunter's mansion that overlooked a lake, and she was in Greenwich, and she was sitting on the wooden bench… but she _wasn't_.

She was lost in her head.

Because _she didn't know where to go from here_.

Her revelations during the 'date' had her mind reeling in so many ways she couldn't even begin to fathom what it meant.

Was she reading too far into the second sex position? Why hadn't he wanted to look at her? Had he been that desperate to finish that he didn't care, or had he cared too much? And her blush that he seemed infatuated with… she was so _lost_.

"I don't understand why you do that."

"Do what?"

Kenna raised her suddenly focused eyes to Hunter, smiled a little as he gestured to the cigarette. "Light it but not smoke it," he said. "You quit years ago."

"I quit _smoking_ years ago. This," she held her hand up, "is just habit.

As her step-brother sat down next to her, Kenna let her eyes fall to the amber glow of the bud. "Thought you'd come out here and check out the scenery?"

"Thought I'd come out here and let you know that our flight leaves in an hour."

She frowned at him. "I thought our flight was at two."

"It is."

 _Oh_.

Two hours. She'd been out here, thinking, mulling over Roman Reigns for two hours.

"What're you thinking about, Ken?"

Where did she even start? "You want this done before SummerSlam. I could have this done at Payback…" Hunter looked at her like he was confused. "Reigns. He's loyal, humble. He has this innate code of honor, pride, whatever you want to call it. And as much as he loves Ambrose and Rollins, what do all men in this industry crave? The WWE championships. As much as he loves them, he can't tell them that he's going after that title. So we'll use that against him."

Like he sensed it, Hunter murmured a quiet, "but?"

"But I'm afraid that won't be enough to pull them apart."

He regarded her with an open expression, eyes that were reading her own face like she was his. "You slept with him."

When she didn't answer, Hunter nodded to himself. "Use that. Get into his head—"

"I don't think I can…" Kenna shook her head and looked back out across the lake. "Even if I could, I don't think I could turn him against them."

"Get into their heads, then."

"How?"

"They're supposed to be brothers. Sleep with one, sleep with all."

Her eyes narrowed then, head turning sharply to glare at Hunter. "Are you telling me to sleep with all of them?"

"Ambrose."

"Oh my _fucking_ God." A visible shudder rocked through her spine. "No. _No_ , no fucking way. We find another— _I_ find another way to do this, because there's no fucking chance in _hell_ that I'm sleeping with that sleazy pig." Kenna stopped and glanced back down at the almost finished cigarette. "He's got too much Samoan honour in his heart to turn against them for me, anyway. No… but if he's protecting himself… maybe."

Now Hunter was intrigued. "Protecting himself?"

"If he thought Rollins and Ambrose were going to turn on him, would he not try to deal the first blow?"

"There we go…" her step-brother trailed off with a grin, "that's what we're after. You have a plan A, B and C to everything, you know? This is why we keep you around."

Kenna rolled her eyes and watched him stand and stretch out his back, let her eyes drift back to the pristine lake. _It could work_ , if she twisted words the right way, if she got in their heads enough. They would unite to face a bigger threat, but the cracks would be breaking them apart from the inside out when the cameras were off, when they were behind closed doors.

"Oh, and Ken? Don't make the mistake of falling in love with him."

She didn't look at him as he walked away.

—

It was just an hour before the televised RAW event, and Kenna had to try and hide herself from prying eyes as she made her way towards the Shield's locker room. She was already prepared for the night ahead, dressed in a black playsuit with her usual khaki makeup, black ankle boots with heels bigger than they should be, and the skull tattoo on her thigh was peaking out just under the shorts.

Roman met her at the door.

"Anything I should know before I go in there?" Kenna asked lowly.

"They know what they need to know."

She tilted her head at him, furrowed her eyebrows. "You mean you haven't told them—"

"I've told them what they need to know."

"Us?"

"Do they need to know that?" Though his words we harsh, his eyes were soft, lips pulling a bit to the side in a soft smile. "They know you can help us get to the top and they know that you need our protection."

 _So he hadn't told them that he was getting a title shot_.

"Okay," Kenna slowly nodded. "Let's get this over with."

Despite Dean's constant staring and never ending questions, Kenna found it very easy to fall into an easy and comfortable state in the room. Rollins was warming himself up with simple exercises and so was Dean, and Roman had excused himself from the room to change into his wrestling gear. So she stayed put on the couch with her legs pulled up underneath her and observed the group as quietly as she could.

"So Kenna," Rollins asked. "How are we supposed to take out Kane for you when he's your brother's lapdog?"

She regarded him with a strange look to her eyes. "Aren't you the Architect?"

Seth's jaw went slack in shock and his eyes narrowed, but her laughter stopped him. "Don't worry, Rollins. I'll go out there to open the show, call him out, we'll have a little chat, and you'll know when your moment to take him down is. It's simple, really. He's out, I run the show, and The Shield has their yard again."

"We going to get another shot at the Tag titles?" Ambrose questioned, his chin resting on his fist. "I mean, Kane was the one that came out and ruined that chance for us."

"You'll have your chance once he's gone."

"And we're just supposed to take your word for that?"

"Yes," Kenna shot back.

"'Cause, y'see, I don't really trust a lot of people, so you're gonna have to forgive me if I'm just a bit apprehensive when it comes to the big boss's lil' sis."

" _Wow_ , apprehensive, huh? You know what that means? I'm surprised."

Dean's icy glare was holding her own as he shot out of his chair, his nostrils flaring, and suddenly she was very prepared for things to fly out of control. Her entire body tensed, but instead of reaching for her, he spat, "You saying I'm stupid?"

"Now you're just putting words in my mouth," Kenna replied cooly. "You're so easy to fire up, aren't you? But no, I don't think you're stupid at all. You're just a wild card when it comes to how you're going to react, so I need to know your moods before I do something stupid."

The door to the bathroom swung open with a light _swoosh_ and Roman stepped out, his inquisitive eyes taking in his brooding stablemate and Seth's amused face. "You guys already at each other's throats?"

"She was bein' mean," Ambrose grumbled, and his lips pulled down into a pout.

"Why am I not surprised that you two ain't gettin' on?" The Samoan laughed quietly. He shook his head and sat down next to Kenna, smiled softly at her. "How's tonight looking?"

Kenna shrugged and dropped her gaze to the floor. "I have a feeling that Steph's not going to like being undermined. You guys might have to be prepared to do more than beat up Kane."

* * *

 **like i said- this won't be a slowburn fic and it won't be like my previous fics. with that being said, let me know what you think about this by leaving a comment or two ;)**

 **also, all of these chapter titles are from songs that i feel fit the chapter well, and this one is _What Went Down_ by Foals**

 **all the love x**


	5. POWER

**POWER**

She was stood in the centre of the squared circle, green leather jacket hanging from her shoulders, brown hair tousled with curls, a microphone poised at her mouth.

"My name is Kenna Swan. Last week, I made it known that my intentions weren't to take part— my intentions are to take over. And after last week, it was simple for me to secure insurance that protected me from both my brother and The Authority. Because at the moment it seems that Hunter and Stephanie don't take me very seriously. They will."

"Currently, if I want to stay, I'm faced with a dilemma. I wrestle, or— I manage. And I _can_ wrestle, don't get me wrong, but there are things I can do that don't give me limits. For example, I know Kane is out there somewhere directing operations… or whatever it is he does, but I also know he wrestles. Even though that's not really the word I'd use for how he blunders through matches."

Kenna took a moment to look at the crowd. "But, see, that brings me to a curious little situation. I need _power_. To change this company, to gain respect, to have Hunter and Stephanie treat me as an equal, I need _power_. And Kane, as far as I'm concerned, went too far on Smackdown. He's gone unpunished. Until now."

"Now, Kane, please— if you'd join me out here, we can discuss this face to face like reasonable people."

She didn't have to wait very long for Kane's theme to echo through the arena, and a long chorus of jeers fell across her. He was dressed in his suit, red tie, and looked more confused than she'd ever seen him. _Maybe her brother hadn't mentioned this was happening._

"Come on down, Kane," she said, voice inviting, and then watched closely as he started to make his way down to her. But as he walked up the steel steps and grabbed the ropes, Kenna held out a hand and smiled a little. "That's far enough, don't you think?"

Kane had no microphone, but she easily heard him ask why he was out there.

"Last week on SmackDown, one fact became blatantly obvious— your anger problems result in a loss of control and you make mistakes that a person in such a position shouldn't be making." Kenna paused, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shift of black and blonde. "It's come to my attention that last week wasn't the first time it's happened, either. Your anger eclipses your better judgement and, for example, it leads you to do stupid things… like lay your hands on me."

"See, I understand what it's like to be so— so _angry_ you just can't contain it. I know how it feels for someone to push your buttons and make you feel week, and maybe The Shield have done that, maybe they haven't, maybe I did that when I held your mask, or _maybe my brother_ asked for you to do what's _best for business_ ," she spat slowly, "and _take care of us_. But that's just speculation."

"For now, in fact, it seems to me as though you're unfit for the position of 'Director of Operations'…" The smirk grew on Kenna's face as she stepped towards him, and the screams started when The Shield stepped out from the shadows. "And right now, Kane? I'm relieving you of your duties."

More screams, this time louder, and Kenna raised the microphone to her mouth one last time. "It's time for you to face your demons."

Very suddenly, Kenna slammed her booted foot into the centre of Kane's chest. He flew backwards, off the apron, and like rabid animals ready for vengeance, The Shield launched themselves at the fallen giant of man.

Like hounds on a bone, each of the combat clad men were stomping their boots into his chest, against his legs and arms and hands, kicking and punching and looking like they were enjoying every second. Reigns yelled out to his brothers and they threaded their hands under Kane's arms, pulled him up— only for the Samoan to launch into him with a rib-shattering spear.

Kenna stood on the apron with an arrogant little smirk and sidestepped to avoid Kane being rolled into her legs. The Hounds of Justice flung themselves between the ropes and in seconds had delivered a debilitating triple power bomb.

" _Swan!_ "

She hadn't even had a chance to take an appreciative look at Roman when Stephanie's voice almost pierced her eardrums, and it was definitely something when the woman's theme wasn't even playing.

"Kenna Swan, you've overstepped your mark here tonight!"

The McMahon was sauntering towards her with an angry twist at her mouth and an even angrier look in her eyes, and for a moment Kenna didn't know whether she was messing around or being completely serious— they hadn't even talked about Stephanie joining her in the ring, but then… here she was.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Steph?"

"You may be my husband's little sister, but you need to understand your boundaries on _my_ show, you hear me?" Stephanie seethed, but she wasn't done. "Do you think that by dismissing Kane, you'll automatically be granted the vacant position? Because that's not how this works here—"

Kenna laughed, shook her head, and when she started speaking, Stephanie let go of an indignant squeak. "That's exactly how it works—"

"Don't you dare interrupt—"

"Interrupt you?" Again, Kenna laughed. "Too late. Kane is incapable of doing his job and so I'm fixing _your_ problem and relieving him of his duties, wishing him well in his… _future endeavours_. That's what you usually say, isn't it? But don't worry, I have everything under control. I know how to run a business."

The woman's nostrils were flaring, her jaw locked, and Kenna's smirk was tugging at her mouth. She didn't pull back quick enough to avoid the palm slapping against her cheek, and it seemed that everyone had been shocked into silence as Kenna tried to maintain her cool.

Slowly, the younger woman turned her head back to stare at her brother's wife.

"You've gone too far, Kenna, but you're right. Kane is not in a position to handle such responsibilities, and right now you're the only person who has the resumé as proof they can undertake a burden as heavy as this." Stephanie was calmer now and her chin raised as she tried to talk down to her. "But you've been disrespectful, and that need punishment. So our main event for tonight? Choose someone to represent you, someone who is strong enough to go up against the _Big Show_ , because if you lose this match? You leave this company."

Kenna fingered her cut lip, but still raised the microphone to her mouth. "And if I win?"

"The job is yours."

—

Roman was staring at her like he was expecting for her to say something, but she was still too busy quietly brooding to even _want_ to appease him.

No. Not after Stephanie had slapped her like that, not after she'd humiliated her in front of millions of people. Not after she'd _talked_ to the woman hours beforehand to go over the intricate details, and _especially_ not after she'd actually cut her skin. Kenna was thick skinned, but some wounds were _more_ than just flesh wounds.

"So?"

Her hazel eyes shot up to where Dean was leaning against a crate. "So what?"

"Who's fighting for you?"

The initial thought had been her step-brother. Just to add some salt to the wound, of course, but then he'd never say yes to her anyway, so that was a definite no. Then, for some unexplainable reason, her next thought had been John Cena. Nothing much was needed there except for _over her dead body_. And then her mind slowed sufficiently for Kenna to realise she didn't need to fret at all— she'd asked Roman Reigns to be her man before he convinced The Shield to become her _men_. But if she wanted to make sure he was with her one hundred percent, he would have to be the one to make that call.

And he did.

"I will."

She didn't look at him straight away. But when she did, his stormy grey eyes were staring straight back at her. "I can't ask you—"

"You're not."

"He's a dangerous man, Roman…"

"Do you trust me?" He asked lowly, and Kenna found that she couldn't look away from him. Her throat dried, hand clenching by her side into a fist.

Then, she murmured a "yes".

But she was jolted from their moment when her phone buzzed, and she quickly excused herself from where the stable had set themselves up at; the screen was flashing her brother's name and no one needed to hear the conversation she was about to have with him. She managed to find an empty room and shoved herself inside, flicked the light on.

When she answered it, she didn't even have the chance to start talking. "Okay, before you lose your mind, it was my idea. Stephanie didn't want to do it at first, but then… it was just— it was my idea. Don't be mad at her."

"Was it your idea for her to bust my lip open?"

He faltered.

"Yeah, I thought not. There's playing a character on TV and then being disrespectful, and you know who was who out there, you know _I_ wasn't the one being disrespectful." Kenna took a deep breath and pushed a fist against her head. "Hunter, I didn't come here to be pushed around by your wife. You're the one that wanted me here. I know she doesn't like me, but at least keep her on a _fucking_ leash so she's not humiliating me in front of the entire world."

"Hey, hey, Ken— I know, alright?" He sighed. "I know. I'll have a word with her."

"And next time when you change your plans, at least clue me in, okay? It's not too great being on the other side of the drop."

"Yeah."

Kenna breathed out heavily and shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "At least Reigns came through."

"He fighting for you?"

"Of course he is."

She could hear the smile in Hunter's voice. "See, _that's_ the result I was after. He offered, didn't he? Already got this sense of honour and he's not hesitating in binding his loyalties to you. Whatever you're doing… keep doing it."

"Sir, yes sir," Kenna murmured. There was a knock on the door, and Kenna quickly said, "gotta go," before ending the call.

Roman was standing at the door when she opened it.

"Can I come in?"

She smiled at him and stepped aside. "Of course."

The room wasn't anything special. Save for some filing cabinets, it was completely empty— and it was spacious enough for the both of them to fit, so that was an added bonus. Kenna pressed her back against the cabinet and watched the Samoan under a close gaze as he shut the door… and then locked it.

"Where are Ambrose and Rollins?"

"Busy."

Roman closed the gap between them so quickly that she gasped and flung her arms out, stopping him just short of her body. And— she'd _stopped_ him. She was just as surprised as him, but she didn't have a good reason for doing it, or any reason at all.

He grabbed her hands and slowly dragged them up to his mouth, ran her knuckles across his lips. And then he dropped them and instead pressed his fingers into her neck, grasping her face, and very gently kissed her. It wasn't intense or powerful. It wasn't like _him_ , but it was something that seemed to soothe her frazzled edges, and slowly but surely she melted into his embrace.

"Nothing's changed," he whispered. "I fight for you, inside and outside that ring. You don't have to sleep with me to maintain that promise anymore."

Kenna grinned against his mouth. "I sleep with you because I want to. I'm just— on edge."

"Stephanie McMahon has that effect on everyone."

"Yes, she does."

Stephanie didn't bother gracing the crowd with her presence for the main event. The Big Show was out there and waiting for Kenna alone, and hopefully that meant it was a one-on-one affair, but she wouldn't be surprised if the McMahon was hiding an ace up her sleeve.

So Kenna stood up on the ramp with another microphone in her mouth, and as she announced the man who had the honour of fighting in her name, she didn't feel the slightest worried. _Roman would take care of this_ , and she would make sure that no one who didn't belong there entered that ring. It would be a fair fight to the very end.

And it was.

At the end of the match, Roman Reigns' hand was raised to the sound of a split crowd, and Kenna knew that she had the power she'd so badly been craving for.

Until tomorrow night, there was nothing left and _no one_ left for Stephanie McMahon terrorise.

—

It didn't take long for Roman to pick up where he'd left off when they reached the hotel that night. It was her room this time, because his was housing Ambrose and Rollins and they didn't need to see or hear what was happening.

Because right now, she kept moaning his name, breathing out air she didn't have in little huffs, and in the effort, her forehead was creased. Roman was shifting on top of her, thrusting and pushing and his mouth was groaning against her breast, hot breath falling against her skin, and Kenna didn't really have the energy or strength to hold onto him any tighter, but _fuck_ did she want to.

When his teeth grated against her nipple, Kenna hissed and threw her head back onto the pillow with another moan, let her nails dig into his shoulders, and Roman groaned right back at her and fuck, _fuck_ , her toes curled at the gravel in his voice and the look of his body on top of hers.

His hand was already moving from the bruising hold on her hip to the bundle of nerves at the base of her navel, and she barely managed to prepare herself before she was gasping and climaxing, her body shaking in pure bliss, mind lost in a beautifully endless rapture. She clenched around his length and she could faintly feel his stuttered breath on her chest and his more erratic movements, but then he was almost collapsing onto her body with release— and then he would have surely crushed her.

The strong arms next to her head were shaking with effort of holding himself up, but he fell into the space next to her with a peacefully satisfied look on his face, and his sweat hair fell limp across the pillow.

"How old are you?" Kenna asked suddenly, and Roman turned to look at her with a small grin.

"What?"

She asked again. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine this year."

"Huh."

Roman turned so he was facing her completely, and then he repeated her question. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-four." It was visible that he tried to at least make his blanch a little less obvious, but his jerking reaction still got an eye-roll as a response. "I wouldn't worry about it, I've always had an old soul."

"You're makin' me feel old."

She smirked at him then. "I'm makin' you feel a lot of things."

His eyes flashed, and she realised that she was right— whether he wanted to acknowledge that or not.

* * *

 **chapter theme and title named after _POWER_ by Kanye West.**

 **thank you so much to _quinzel harley_ and _Raquel the writer_ for your kind comments, and please don't hesitate to let me know what you think about this update! i'll try and write as much as i can, but work and uni are going to be intense, so we'll see how it goes! in the mean time, enjoy this chapter!**

 **all the love x**


	6. Time

**Time**

The room was full. There was a camera in the corner recording everything, and Hunter and Stephanie were standing across from her, the glares in their eyes both matching and amusing all at once.

"We had a deal, Stephanie," Kenna said slowly. "I choose a Superstar to fight for me and if he wins, I get assigned the position of Director of Operations. Roman Reigns won."

"See, here's the thing— because I own this company, I get the final say in everything. And my final say is that you are _not_ the Director of Operations. You think you can take over this company because you're my husband's darling sister, but the truth is you're just a naïve little girl who wouldn't know left from right, let alone what's best for business." Stephanie raised her chin and an arrogant smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth. "Just because you have The Shield doesn't mean you have the business, Kenna."

Kenna tilted her head to the left, hazel eyes narrowing the slightest. "You're smart, Stephanie. I'd be lying to myself if I didn't acknowledge that. My agenda here isn't against you, it's against my brother— but if you make it your personal business to get in my way, I'm going to make it my personal business to remove you from the equation."

"Leave," the older woman hissed. "Get out of my arena. We're not playing this game— not now, not ever. _Get out_."

Stepping forward so their noses were almost touching, Kenna smirked. "Make me."

For an intense moment, their confrontation felt extremely real. Kenna knew it wasn't… but Stephanie didn't like her as it was, and Kenna felt much the same. And it wasn't until Triple H put a hand on Kenna's shoulder to slowly push her away that she snapped from the stare.

"Don't you dare touch me," she snarled at him. "I don't care how it happens, I don't care when it happens, but it's gonna happen, and you're gonna lose absolutely everything you worked for."

Nothing more was said as Kenna turned on her heel.

Yet, she was quick to continue walking down the hall, towards where she knew The Shield would be waiting for her, because they had a _lot_ to talk about— she had to show them that she could still be influential even _without_ being Director of Operations, and Hunter had listened to her ideas hours before and given his seal of approval.

"Kenna Swan," a deep voice said slowly, and Kenna turned with a frown on her face, her steps slowing. "Seems to be the name on the tip of everyone's tongue at the moment."

"Just yours, currently." She fully turned now and regarded Michael Mizanin with slight disdain in her eyes. She knew him, knew _of_ him— and she didn't want whatever it was about to happen _happen_. "I'm a little busy at the moment, but whatever it is you want can probably wait, alright?"

"Oh, no, didn't want to hold you up," Miz laughed. But then he pursed his lips and stepped closer. "See, I just— everyone's talking about _you_ when they should be talking about _me_."

The thigh-high boots she was wearing pushed her height to such an extent that she could gaze him in the eyes without arching her neck, and silently she was thankful; it was difficult for her to be intimidating or even challenging when she was the smaller person in the situation.

"Change it, then."

Miz raised an eyebrow at her and tried to close the distance between them with one step when Kenna placed a heavy hand against his chest. "No," she said, "you stay there."

It was like his calm façade was shattered, because Miz's face twisted and he slapped her hand off him, and quiet literally shoved her backwards so hard she flew backwards into a very hard and very defined body— and she would have fallen flat on her ass had the hands not wrapped around her waist.

But Kenna didn't even care. Her eyes were lit in a fire and she was about to slap that cocky little smile off of his face before she even had her footing back. Kenna lurched forwards straight away and slammed her fist across his face, and then hissed and cussed when it hurt more than she thought it would. Her lips pursed and she spun clutching her hand to her chest, only to meet Roman's amused gaze.

"You good?"

"Never been better."

With one last glance over her shoulder, Kenna left the disgraced Superstar on his ass.

—

She had to keep reminding herself that her job here was to break Roman Reigns and The Shield, not to _make_ them, but that seemed to be getting increasingly harder each passing moment— because here she was, telling Ambrose and Rollins that they had their rematch for the Tag Team titles the RAW after WrestleMania, and here she was telling the boys they could choose whoever they wanted to face on the grandest stage of them all.

And it was hard to remember that she was supposed to be ruining Roman when he was staring at her with that genuine curve to his mouth. Like he was proud of her, like she'd made him happy.

 _How was she supposed to do anything when he looked at her like that?_

"But let me get this straight— how are you even able to pull strings when they won't give you any power?" Seth asked her cautiously.

"I'll make them listen," Kenna thought out loud, and again she'd opened her mouth without really thinking about it. "I'll make it hard for them to say no to me, I'll make it even harder for them to not use me."

Seth was still frowning at her. "But how does that help you get back at your brother?"

"Because I'll have done in one month what he's done in three years, and I'll have done it _better_. When the Board of Directors realise which Helmsley sibling is the better one, they'll have no further use for him." She paused and glanced back over at Roman for the slightest second, and then turned back to Seth. "He thought he could control The Shield and he was wrong— he hindered you. I can give you so much more than he ever did, but all you gotta do is turn your back on him completely, and he won't go near you with a ten foot pole, he won't be stupid enough, and if he is? You can show him just how _much_ you appreciate all he's done for you."

In the corner of the locker room, Dean snorted. His head was resting back against the wall and his eyes were closed, but he was listening to every word she'd just said. "Who needs the Cerebral Assassin when you've got the Cerebral Assassin's lil' sis?"

And she agreed with him. "You can play The Game all you want, but when it comes to me? I'm the one who plays it best."

His eyebrows raised then, and Kenna stared for a moment before she realised that it was his way of agreeing with her, and then her eyes were back on Seth— who seemed more then happy to accept that response.

When she glanced over at Roman, he shot her another smile.

And was this what it was supposed to be like? Where she was the bad guy and he was the good guy, where she gave him everything and then ripped it away like it was nothing? And then she had to wonder why she cared so much. She wasn't a good person. _So why did she care?_

She needed to get out of there before she had a panic attack.

Standing abruptly, Kenna excused herself from the room and walked as quickly as she could through the maze of the arena, begging for outside air and breathing in relief when she was suddenly out in the cool of the night.

"Fuckin' stupid," she murmured to herself, because this was _stupid_. What she was doing was stupid and wrong in more ways than one, but she had too much pride in her body to leave a job unfinished. She would stay and she would do what Hunter had asked her to do, and then she would go back to wrestling in the smaller circuits— because that was what she enjoyed most. And at least then, she figured, she wouldn't have any boundaries or expectations to be measured against.

But she had to _think_.

WrestleMania was in three weeks and undoubtably, The Shield would choose to go against Kane and the New Age Outlaws— there was no denying that, not with what Kane had planned for them next week (Kenna had conveniently left this little bit of information out). Then Rollins and Ambrose would fight for the Tag Titles, hopefully win, and be thrown right into another feud in time for Extreme Rules and Payback.

She had three specials to break them.

And there was no way she was leaving without getting hurt in the process.

Kenna visibly jumped when a warm jacket was slid around her shoulders, and then she was glancing at Stephanie with a frown. But she didn't speak.

"It's cold out here," the older woman offered, and Kenna slowly nodded her head. "Hunter would kill me if he knew I let you get sick."

"But he seems okay with you splitting my lip," she fired back easily.

Stephanie actually had the audacity to look ashamed. "I have to admit— that probably wasn't my smartest moment."

"Not at all."

"But, now that we're both out here, it give me the opportunity to apologise." Stephanie turned so that she was fully facing Kenna, and her eyes shone with some twisted kind of sincerity. "I'm sorry, Kenna. It was unprofessional and uncalled for and it won't happen again without your permission— and if it does, you can slap me right back."

Kenna couldn't help her snort. "Damn right I will."

The two woman settled into a sort of queazy silence, almost like Stephanie wanted to say something but didn't know how to. So Kenna did it for her.

"I came here because Hunter asked me to. My words are words, I'm playing a character on a television screen and that character will stay there." She paused and gazed over her shoulder at the arena exit. "Please, Stephanie— I know you don't like me, but don't make this harder than it has to be. I'll be gone before you know it."

"Or you could stay."

And— _what?!_

Stephanie even looked serious, but Kenna couldn't ever believe that. "I'm not staying. With what I'm about to do— staying is the last thing on my mind."

"You're breaking a faction, Kenna, not killing someone."

"I'm going to be public enemy number one."

"You're going to be recognised as the most cunning, ruthless and dangerous female working at WWE— apart from me, of course, but even I wouldn't do something like this."

And there it was again, the constant reminder that she was definitely going to far and had not even enough honour in her bones to stop it. "I'm going to be known as a lot of things, Steph, and all they're going to call me is a heartless bitch. Doesn't matter how I try and redeem myself, I'm always gonna be the bad guy."

"That's what we are, that is _exactly_ what the Authority is," Stephanie affirmed, "We do what's best for business, and right now, taking care of The Shield is best for business."

In some regards, Stephanie was right. The Authority— rather, the people who ran The Authority; her step-brother and sister-in-law —were heartless and without remorse. And maybe Stephanie appreciated having someone just like her hanging around on a more permanent basis. Maybe Stephanie had realised that Kenna was smarter than she looked, older than her age.

But there was a nagging thought in the back of her head that hadn't left her alone since they'd started using that line on her. "Taking care of The Shield is best for you and Hunter," Kenna voiced slowly.

"Honey, let me fill you in on a little secret— Hunter and I? We _are_ best for business."

"Kenna?"

It was a new voice, and Kenna's heart started to thump wildly in her chest as she glanced over her shoulder. Roman Reigns was walking towards them and his eyes were narrowed, his footsteps becoming slower and more hesitant.

He spoke again, and Stephanie turned to face him finally. "Everything okay here?"

"I'm just informing Miss Swan that she has her first wrestling match next week on RAW against Alicia Fox," the older woman spoke easily, and Kenna almost turned to look at her— _almost_ , because in this moment, she might have been a genius. "Lovely to see you again, Kenna."

And then Stephanie McMahon was stalking away from them like she'd just been given the world in a wrapped box.

For a long moment, Reigns and Kenna stood there in the silence and let it surround them completely. She didn't know how much he'd seen or how much he'd heard, or whether he'd not seen or heard anything at all.

"Isn't that Triple H's jacket?"

She was making too many mistakes tonight. "Stole it," she murmured quietly, "it's cool out here."

Reigns slung an arm around her shoulder, and said, "We'll go inside then—"

"No."

His arm slowly dropped from her body and for a long moment Kenna was content to just stand there and let the cold numb her mind.

Yet, she couldn't. So Kenna turned and threw her arms around Reigns' neck, pushed her mouth hard against his, pressed her body flat against him, and then kissed him like she was trying to forget absolutely everything that she was supposed to be doing here. It was hard and imperfect and the way Reigns was clutching her against him had her entire body throbbing in the right kind of way.

His large hands were grabbing at her hips and she hissed when he found a particularly raw spot from their efforts this morning, but he didn't release and instead drank the moan from her lips like it was wine.

Yet, then he was pulling away.

"Kenna—"

She cut him off before he could even begin. "My head is doing some crazy things right now, big guy, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just help me _not_ think."

His stormy grey eyes peered down at her for just a moment before he gripped her face between his large hands and thrust his tongue into her mouth, and then she couldn't think anything else except _fuck_ , because his leg had pushed between hers, rubbing against the meeting of her thighs.

"I can't do this out here," she rushed against his mouth, and without words he agreed with her and started manoeuvring them towards the backdoor of the arena.

She wondered silently when he became Reigns and not Roman.

* * *

 **chapter title named after _Time_ by Gustavo Bertoni**

 **thankyou so much to _Raquel the writer_ and _quinzel harley_ (yes, i see what you did there you sneaky fuck ;) got the 'choose a champion' idea from that!) for their reviews, as feedback leaves me happy and wanting to write more (alas, this finished chapter). **

**mostly Kenna realises how much of a shitty situation she's put herself into, so next chapter we get to see her have another talk with Triple H, and a surprise guest appearance of a childhood hero (who knows more than he lets on). Kenna's in some deep shit now... let me know what you think, where I can improve, etc etc, anything is greatly appreciated!**

 **much love x**


	7. Howling

**Howling**

It was Thursday, and though it'd only been a day and a half since she last saw The Shield, they were still at the forefront of her mind.

Her hands were shaking when she picked up the antique land line phone, so instead she cradled it between her ear and shoulder and placed the sangria she was drinking on the table in front of her.

Kenna had a very big soft spot for houses with views, and while Hunter's was one of her favourite places to visit— her's was always amazing to come home to. The house wasn't big, but it sat on the coast of Paradise Cove in California and she had a private beach all to herself… and because of that, it cost her an absolutely fortune.

The house itself was two levels. On the first was the kitchen and living, her master suite with sliding doors and an alfresco cabana, the laundry and an open viewing deck. On the second was two guest bedrooms and a sunroom facing the ocean.

She wasn't going to deny her privilege, but she was a very lucky woman.

Hunter picked up on the third ring.

"You're at home," he observed, having obviously seen the number she was calling him from.

"Yeah," she easily replied. "Can't spend all my time on the road, can I?"

"Should have come seen the girls if you were feeling like that."

Kenna tried not to snort at him. "I mean I need some alone time. I'll come back and see them again next time I'm over that way, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

There was silence on the line for a moment as Kenna thought of what to say. "I was thinking… the boys— no, more Ambrose… he doesn't trust me. Neither does Rollins, but it's Ambrose I'm worried about, 'cause I can't get a read on him. You put me in a position where Reigns defends me instead of them and that'll be the first crack." She paused again, and like Hunter knew she wasn't done, he stayed quiet. "It could be anything. But it has to be Kane and the New Age Outlaws, or else you won't get the WrestleMania match."

"I'm not going to ask Kane to hurt you…" Hunter murmured, but there was hesitation in his voice. "What are you comfortable with?"

"Attempted chokeslam. He won't do it, so I won't get hurt, but it'll add value."

"And how do you expect us to separate Reigns from the others?"

"I'll tell him that Kane's looking for me," Kenna mused aloud, "ask him to go check the building because I don't trust anyone else. He'll leave Rollins and Ambrose to look over me, I'll walk out to the ring, and he'll blame his 'brothers' for not stopping me."

Hunter is laughing on the other end of the line, short clips of it rattling around in her brain. "You really are a Helmsley, aren't you?"

"Learn from the best."

"Alright, I'll set that up for you and let you know whether there's any changes or not. Promise not to pull a Stephanie on you again," there was a teasing tone in his voice when he trailed off, and despite herself, a grin pulled at the side of her mouth. "Talk to you later."

For the next hour, Kenna's head wouldn't stop spinning with possibilities of how this would fuck up and be turned back in her face. Because it would, and there was no denying that.

She stood from the cabana chair and downed the rest of her sangria, slipped the chiffon pull over from her shoulders and stepped out onto the sand, reached behind her back to unclip her bra, and then she was walking towards the ocean with nothing but her underwear.

—

The ocean had a way of calming her mind. Surrounded by endless blue, soft white sand, wind and waves and gentle water— the whole reason she'd bought this house was because she needed some kind of way to slow down her brain.

But there was salt all over her skin and in places it shouldn't have been, so Kenna was trudging back towards her house ready for a shower and a movie. It was dark and her hair was drenched and the shower was warm when she stepped in, so when she stepped out, her skin was glowing pink and her collarbone length hair was silky smooth. Wrapping a white, fluffy towel around her torso, Kenna stepped into the pitch black hall and made her way towards the kitchen.

And when Kenna flicked the light switch on, her loud gasp and cuss had a smile forming on Dean Ambrose's face— because there he was, sitting on her couch like he owned her house. He was dressed in street clothes, dishwater hair hanging limp across his head, and in his hand was a cellphone and a piece of paper. Subconsciously, she clutched at the towel around her body tighter.

"How the fuck did you get in here?" she hissed at him, "How the fuck do you even know where I live?"

"Does it matter?" Dean shot back. His legs were spread wide open in a domineering position, arms slung back along the couch, and he looked _very_ relaxed. "I'm not too good with technology, but directions are simple enough to follow."

But Kenna was seething, because _how dare he_. "Get out," she spat, "get out of my house, Ambrose, or I swear to God—"

"You'll do what, huh?" He snorted in contempt and stood, closed the distance between them with three long strides, and Kenna's eyes were pure _fire_ , but he wasn't even looking at her. "It's a nice house. Good spot. Must'a had a lotta money to afford this place, huh?" His head turned back to regard her with a cool expression. "Hunter's money? Helmsley money? No offence, love, but you're a bit too young to be rich."

She could feel her nostrils flaring, but didn't give Ambrose the satisfaction of replying.

He didn't seem to mind. "I was watchin' you earlier, y'know? You were real deep in thought when you got off the phone," and by this stage her blood had turned to ice, but he didn't stop, "strippin' off for anyone to see. Nice body. Gentle swim in the ocean to… to what? Clear your mind? What's got you so bothered, princess? Is it Rome? Your brother?" Again, Dean trailed off.

"Get out of my house or I'm calling the police," Kenna maintained, and because he was too close, she took a small step backwards for space. He followed her.

"See, I don't trust people easy. I don't _like_ people. Never have, never will, and right now, you're blowin' up my radar 'cause you're the most unpredictable one of them all. At least with the Authority, we know their style and their game plan," he spoke, quickly and lowly and all the while slowly advancing on her. "But you're not the Authority and you're _definitely_ not The Shield. You say you want power, but if you have this house, why don't you just buy a portion of the company? Is it not your money? Is it because you don't want to waste money on something you won't keep?"

Kenna's blood had turned from ice to fire, and it was boiling in her veins, heating her heart, and she was suddenly very _angry_. Angry at Dean Ambrose, angry at her brother for putting her in this position, angry at herself for volunteering to do this in the first place.

She choked on air when her back hit the living room wall, the clutch on her towel tightening even more. "What do you want, Dean?"

"I want the truth," he hissed, and then he slapped a hand onto the wall next to her head. "I want the Goddamn truth, Kenna, so I'm gonna ask you once and once only— whose side are you _really_ on?"

With her chest rapidly rising and falling, fear and anger glazing her eyes, Kenna's lips pulled back over her teeth to snarl her reply. "I'm on my own side. I came to the WWE for revenge, I came to take everything I could and turn it on it's fucking head, and I'm not leaving until I do that. Whose side am I on? I'm on _Roman's_ side, because my brother has a certain infatuation with him that I can't explain, but I know that I can use him to make Hunter angry, just like I can use The Shield to make him angry. What this _is_ is a mutual hate for him, a partnership, because you can get me to the top, but by _God_ can I get you to the top as well. You use me, I use you, and that means that I'm on _your_ side." Kenna raised her chin and tilted her head, narrowed her hazel eyes. "Whose side are you on, Ambrose?"

Dean looked at her for a long while before nodding his head. "Roman know this?"

"Call him, ask him," Kenna challenged, "I told him everything, but if _you_ want to question him and go against him, that's on _you_."

His eyes narrowed. And then he grabbed her wrists, thrust them up against the wall, smiled as she tried to fight back against him, but her panting breaths and struggles were loosening the towel and she stopped, had to crane her head back to glare at the smirk splitting his mouth. The hands around her wrists weren't bruising her skin, really just holding her in place. She realised suddenly that Dean didn't want to hurt her— not in the way she thought, anyway. No. Dean wasn't here for anything but to send a very clear message.

"You fucked him, didn't you?" He laughed, "you fucked him and he fell right into your masterplan without even thinking about it. Must've been good, he must have been out of his mind to say yes to you…" Dean lowered his face, trailed his lips along her cheekbone to her ear, and his voice was so deep it sent a shiver down her spine. "Should show me, if you want me to be on your side."

And she couldn't deny that his dominance was starting to affect her body. Not when her skin was hot, not when she could feel heat starting to pool between her thighs. She'd been kissed by Dean before… she would be lying if she said she hadn't thought about it.

"What if I say no?" Kenna murmured, and slowly Dean pulled away so he could send her a smouldering look.

"You're not gonna say no."

Her eyes were half-lidded now, cheeks were heavily flushed, and when Dean looked a little closer, he could see the fighting glint being replaced by something much more wanting and he could easily see the desire.

So he leaned in until there was no space, his lips hovering just above hers, and then pressed his leg between her thighs, shifted until there was just enough friction that Kenna was moaning into his open mouth— and without really meaning to, Kenna thought back to the night where Stephanie had apologised, to where Roman had pushed his own thigh between her legs and how it had set off a different kind of fire inside her bones, and suddenly this felt wrong, this felt bad, and she turned her face away from Dean's completely.

"No," Kenna whispered. "He was more than just a fuck."

At those words, Ambrose paused, ducked to try and catch her gaze. And then he was smirking for an entirely different reason. "Oh, this just keeps gettin' better. You like 'im, don't you? That's why you're doin' this, that's why you're helpin' us. You fell for your own plan."

"Get off me," she said, but there wasn't much strength behind her words.

So without question, he dropped her wrists and backed away, slung his leather jacket over his shoulder, and simply began to walk for the door like nothing had even happened.

Halfway out the door, he paused. His gaze locked with Kenna's one last time. "Don't worry, Ken— The Shield have your back."

And then he was gone.

Her hands were shaking as she wiped at her mouth, and Kenna didn't have the strength in her to stop the tears starting to pool in her eyes. This was her _home_ , her sanctuary, and Dean Ambrose had broken into her safe place and confronted her in the most frightening way. He'd seen her naked, he'd seen her unguarded, and she felt both disgusted and violated, because how _dare_ he?

She was reaching for her mobile phone without hesitation, searching through her contacts until her finger hovered over Hunter's name. Because she should call him. Dean had broken into her _house_ and had made her more vulnerable then she'd ever been.

But she kept scrolling, pressed a name she shouldn't have.

Roman answered almost straight away. "Hey, baby girl." When she didn't reply, when it was obvious that he could hear the way she was breathing, she could hear his concern and confusion. "Kenna, you alright?"

Sucking in a deep breath, Kenna tried to control her voice so it wouldn't shake. "When I asked for you to convince Ambrose and Rollins to join us, I expected you to _convince_ them." She heard him murmur her name confused, but didn't care enough to stop. "Dean Ambrose just broke _into_ _my house_ to question me because he didn't trust me, because _apparently_ you didn't convince him well enough. He pushed me up against a fucking wall after he'd obviously seen me naked and tried to jump my bones and only fucking stopped when I told him I had feelings for you, and you know what that makes me think? That makes me think you had somethin' to do with this, because why else would he do this, huh? Nothing else makes sense. This is my _home_ , Roman, my safe place away from the WWE, and he just ruined that, so you can take this deal and you can shove it where the sun don't shine, because I'm _done_ , Roman Reigns, I'm fucking _done_."

And before he could respond, Kenna ended the call and chucked her phone carelessly onto the floor, drew in a shuddering breath, and only then realised tears were streaking down her face.

—

She hadn't looked at her phone since Thursday night, and now it was Saturday evening and she'd still not picked it up from where she'd left it, but now she was staring at it because she wanted to. She wanted to know whether Reigns had bothered to fight for her or not.

Kenna was comfortable in some sweatpants and a loose cropped top when a rapture of knuckles sounded across her front door, and despite herself, she jumped.

Because she still wasn't over Dean breaking into her house.

When she didn't answer, the person spoke.

"Kenna, I know you're in there."

And of _fucking course_ it was Roman Reigns, because why _wouldn't_ it be?

"I'm not letting you in," she called back.

"Kenna, please…"

"Go away."

What she needed less than seeing Dean Ambrose again was seeing Roman's big puppy dog eyes, giving in to him. If Ambrose wanted her gone, he'd won fair and square. But Roman had stopped replying— and for a short second, she actually felt like he'd listened to her.

And then there was a tap at her alfresco sliding doors, and when she gazed across from the couch she was sitting on, Roman was standing there staring right back at her.

" _Go away_ ," she repeated, her lips curling over her teeth so she at least looked a little threatening.

"No." Roman shook his head and spread his arms a little, then crossed them. "Not goin' anywhere till you let me inside, baby girl."

And suddenly, very, _very_ suddenly, Kenna's had enough of stubborn men getting what they want. She flung herself from the couch and stalked towards the sliding door with anger in her veins, and Roman seemed to sense it, took a very cautious step backwards as she finally opened the door. Her nostrils were flaring, her chest heaving, and Roman looked about ready to open his mouth.

Then— then she slapped him.

Her palm slammed right into his cheek and his head snapped to the side, arms flexing, and when he looked back at her… she slapped him again.

And then she slammed her hands against his chest over and over until he was able to catch her wrists, his breath coming out in a hiss when her nails dug into the backs of his hands, and he realised when she did that there were angry tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

"Ken…"

"Shut up."

He didn't. "I'm sorry. I had no idea what he was thinkin', okay? And if I'd known, I would have stopped him. Believe me, Kenna, _I would have stopped him_."

Her vision was distorted with tears, but she could see the sincerity in his eyes. He wasn't lying. His left cheek was a little bit red and some of his hair had fallen from the bun at his neck, but he was there to fight for her and all at once she knew that she hadn't meant any of what she'd said to him on the phone. She wasn't done, not at all.

So Kenna pulled her hands from his slowly and grabbed his neck, curled up into his body, and pressed her lips against his gently and with as much emotion as she could.

Roman Reigns was hers.

For now, at the very least.

* * *

 **i'm supposed to be asleep cause i have class in 7 hours, but i felt like this was too important not to finish in one go. i had to split this chapter and the next in half, so the visit from Kenna's idol won't happen until the next chapter because i wanted this one to have it's own shock factor. the title is from _Howling_ by Cathedrals.**

 **thank you Raquel the Writer for your comment, hope you enjoyed this (and thankyou quinzel harley for reading, i c u)**

 **let me know what you think, because like i said- there's a visit from an old friend/idol, developments in Kenna's plan, and of course, some much beloved sexy times in the next update**

 **much love x**


	8. Paper Trails

**Paper Trails**

Kenna slipped herself under the water, felt her back and her ass slide along the ceramic as her head was submerged— because under here, away from the noise, she could be strong, she could be her without needing to be anything else in particular.

The Samoan who had invited himself over hadn't left her side and though she'd acknowledged her growing feelings for the man, she wasn't ready to be with him all the time.

She _needed_ her own space.

A shadow was cast over her face, and she wasn't surprised that when she opened her eyes, the wavering vision of Roman Reigns was staring down at her. And she wasn't surprised when he reached a hand down into the water and pulled her up and out just to press his lips against hers.

"Trying to drown?" he murmured against her skin.

"It's nice when there's nothing," Kenna whispered back, and she curled her fingers around his arm for more support, "what are you doing in here?"

His dark eyes were unreadable as they scanned her face, but he didn't back away from her. "Your phone was going crazy, so I had a look just to see whether it was anything important… your brother's called you ten times in the last five minutes, so… I don't know whether you'd want to know about that or not."

Her heart dropped. She didn't understand how the stupid thing was still alive, but she did understand that because she hadn't been careful, she'd put herself into another compromising position. So instead of getting defensive about it, Kenna let her eyes slide shut in exhaustion as she sighed, her face a picture of tiredness. Because she was— she was beyond tired of fucking up and being caught out, and Roman must have taken that a different kind of way, because a smile pulled the corner of his mouth up.

"Tired of dealing with him, huh?"

She nodded. "Not interested in whatever he's got to say, 'cause he's still tryna convince me that this is a bad idea."

"That what's a bad idea?"

Kenna looked at him a bit closer and inclined her chin in his direction. "You. That The Shield's a bad idea. That trying to take over is a bad idea, 'cause when I push him, he'll push back twice as hard, doesn't matter who I am."

He still had that unreadable glint in his eyes, like he was trying so hard to believe her but didn't know if he should. "You're a bad idea," he murmured instead.

And her mouth pulled up slightly, because he was right.

Raising an arm to wrap her other hand around the back of his neck, Kenna slowly pulled them both down until her chin was at the water, his nose right at hers, where he was so close to the water his loose hair had already fallen into it— but he didn't look concerned with how close he was getting at all.

"I could pull you in," Kenna breathed against his lips, "just like that, I could pull you in."

Roman didn't move and his face didn't change, his eyes still burning, and she went to draw him under the water when the grip on the back of her neck tightened, his free hand curving around her waist. Then, just as Kenna's eyes were beginning to widen, Roman pulled her completely out of the tub with little effort and slammed her against the closest wall.

He drunk the winding gasp that flew out of her mouth and pushed his tongue against hers, overpowering every part of her body, and she let her nails rake down his bare chest as she tried to find some kind of leverage— but she was soaking wet and slipping against the wall, and as powerful as Roman was, even he was struggling to get a good grasp on her.

"Bed," she hissed against his mouth, " _now_."

They were barely moving before she was kissing him again, open and hungry mouths, and Roman stumbled backwards when she jumped and locked her legs around his hips. But then he was feeling his way along the wall and holding onto her with one arm as tight as he could.

The sliding doors to her private alfresco were open, the navy curtains shifting slightly in the wind, and the hairs on Kenna's arms stood on end as they entered the room.

Roman groaned into her mouth when her hand fisted in his hair and somehow he found a post of the canopy over her bed and pressed her back against it, the lighter curtains hanging on it quickly dampening under her wet hair.

He tore his mouth away from hers and gazed at her, his eyes smouldering. "You're a bad idea," he murmured slowly, repeating what he'd said earlier, "but I don't give a fuck."

 _What she would give to be inside his head for an hour…_

And he was about to resume how he'd been taking her apart when Kenna turned her face slightly, not letting his mouth claim hers. Roman paused and his grip became tighter on her body, but she needed to say it, she needed him to know before they went any further just what her feelings were for him— because she was falling for him. She'd known him two weeks and she was already falling for him, and Dean's words rang mockingly through her head, _you like 'im, don't you? You fell into your own plan_.

She just didn't know how to tell him.

"Ken…?"

"This isn't just _fucking_ to me anymore."

It was as blunt as anything she'd ever said and Roman pulled away to stare at her again. "Then I won't fuck you."

What followed was tantalisingly hot, white ecstasy that made her heart warm and her bones like fire. He'd moved slow and fast, kept it intimate by facing her the entire time, by letting her breathe his air like he was a lifeline, and then he'd sunk his face between her thighs and bruised her tender skin with his beard, wouldn't stop even when she was writhing beneath him and crying his name.

He held her to his chest when he was finished and stroked her drying hair and peppered kisses along her hairline, and she traced her fingers over the raised skin she'd caused with her nails.

She forgot what it was like to worry about letting the secret slip and she forgot about Dean, and more worryingly, she forgot what she was here for, why she was in bed with him in the first place, why she was doing her brother a favour by staying here.

Because in that moment, all Kenna was thinking was that maybe it wouldn't be so bad with Roman Reigns around all the time.

—

They arrived to the arena on Monday afternoon in tandem— Roman walked in first with his suitcase and she followed him slowly. She didn't know what was waiting them when they walked into The Shield's locker room, and she wasn't really sure she wanted to be there for the confrontation with Roman and Dean. _She_ didn't want to see Dean, let alone be in the same room with him, and Roman had felt her anxiety the entire ride to the arena to such an extent he'd been whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

Yet that was the thing when someone broke into your house; nothing was calming. Her safest place had been violated by Dean Ambrose and _she_ had been violated by him as well. Why should she even have to look at him?

Roman stopped them outside of the room. His hands angled her jaw up, his eyes soft, and he slowly put his head against hers. "You got me, alright? You're not alone."

But she was, and her heart sunk.

"'ey, 'bout time you two showed up!" Dean yelled the second they entered the room. "Was beginning to worry that I'd scared ya' off, Ken."

As Kenna wheeled her suitcase in, her glare was icy cold. But she didn't say anything to him and instead went to sit over next to where Seth was warming up— which, coincidentally, was the furthest corner away from Ambrose, and his amused blue eyes followed her the entire way.

He almost jumped when he turned back to Roman glaring down at him.

"Rome—"

The Samoan's tattooed forearm was at his neck and then pushing him backwards, knocking a table over as Roman slammed the other man up against the wall, and Kenna watched with wide eyes as Ambrose floundered, apparently both shocked and confused at what was happening. "I find out you jeopardise our situation again and I'm gonna knock your teeth down your throat," Roman hissed down at him. "You went a step too fuckin' far Ambrose, but this is the last stunt you're gonna pull, y'hear me?"

Dean squeaked out a "yep" and Roman's arm disappeared quick as lightening.

Beside her, Rollins had slowed his warmup to a stop and silence enclosed the four— Roman was still glaring at Dean, Dean was looking at everything _but_ Roman, and Seth was glancing between all three of them like he was slowly beginning to comprehend what had happened.

"You okay?" he quietly asked Kenna.

"Rattled," she confessed, and she spared one last look at Ambrose before turning to smile at the half blonde. "I'll be fine."

It didn't take long for the tension to be so stifling in the locker room that Kenna had to excuse herself. She supposed that there would be some fallout between the stablemates, that Roman would divulge to Seth what Dean'd done, but she couldn't be completely sure. All she knew was that she didn't want to be in that room any longer than she had to be.

And, on top of that— she had a match to prepare for.

She would wear what she always wore to the ring when she was set for a match; just because she'd changed where she wrestled didn't mean she had to change her look.

Kenna slipped into a deserted room and made sure, _double checked_ , that the door was locked before she started pulling off her clothes. When she was left in her nude underwear and strapless bra, Kenna set to work. She pulled on long black socks, leather thigh garters which she hooked over black shorts, and then black timberlands. Next was the zipped top. It was white and turquoise and black, a practical but intricate sports bra with a racer back. Kenna secured black knee pads onto her legs and then started to tape up her wrists with the same white tape her brother used. Across her forearm, she tied a black bandana with skull patterns— and then she covered it up as she pushed her arms through a leather jacket.

It was only when she started shoving her street clothes back into her bag that the iPhone in her pocket buzzed with a message tone.

 _Be careful, we've got visitors._

The message was undoubtedly from her step-brother, and Kenna frowned as she studied the words. _We?_ Was it someone that they both had to be cautious with?

Silently, she wondered when his adversaries had become her adversaries.

And she still hadn't told him about Ambrose breaking into her house.

That was a conversation for another time, when she was confident enough that she could talk her brother down from choking Dean out on the spot— they might not have been blood, but Kenna was still his little sister.

RAW was fully underway. She could feel thousands of voices shaking her bones and she took a deep breath, knew that she would be out in that crowd and subject to the judgement of millions. They could despise her as a person and Kenna wouldn't mind, but if they disrespected her in ring ability? Her anger would tear apart the arena.

And as Kenna was walking through the back halls, a sudden chill fell over her spine.

She knew without even looking around who exactly it was that stood near her, because there was a reason they went with the cool blue lighting and mystical smoke for his ring entrance.

"Mark…" Kenna said as she turned slowly, gazing up at the tall man without trying to seem intimidated or starstruck as she always seemed to be. "Hi."

The corners of his mouth tugged up. "Evenin'."

"You, um—" Kenna broke off and looked around, took a step closer to him. "Hunter know you're here? I got a message earlier…"

"Oh, he knows."

An uneasy feeling settled across her shoulders and she glanced back over her shoulder. "Michelle here?"

"Just me," Mark smirked. "I know what you're doing?"

"What— what, _me?_ " she stumbled over her words, eyes wide, and had to drag in a long breath. "I'm not doin' anything, I'm just—"

"Not with me. The Shield."

 _Oh, shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit._

For the first time in a long time, Kenna gaped up at him without anything to say. Because she could see it in his eyes that he knew everything without even having to be told— her brother wouldn't say anything and neither would Stephanie, so that wouldn't have ever made sense. He just _knew_.

Like he expected her silence, the Undertaker continued. "You be careful with those lot. They're bonded by a lot more than just a common goal. You come in between them and they'll rip you apart." His eyes narrowed as if he were taking a closer look at her face. "All the makeup in the world can't change that look in your eyes, Kenna. You weren't made to play this kind of game."

Her chin raised. "I may not be as heartless as Stephanie, but I can play this game."

"Should you?"

He was staring down at her with unreadable eyes, flickering above her head for a moment before settling back on hers. "A piece of advice— being heartless might be the only way you can protect yourself."

There was a hand at the small of her back then and Kenna visibly recoiled, snapped her head around to glare at whoever it was, and was then met with Dean's glowering face. When she turned back to regard the Undertaker, he'd disappeared into the shadows.

 _Perfect_.

"You touch me again and Roman won't be the only one knocking your teeth down your throat."

* * *

 _ **Paper Trails**_ **by Darkside is the chapter title, aka my favourite song at the moment- it's so chill and sexy at the same time? to me, at least. would love to be in an empty arena and have this play around me.**

 **THE UNDERTAKER? yeah, i went there. did i do him justice? i like to think that he's so extremely observant that he knows a lot without having to be told. check out my polyvore (raaeebruce) for Kenna's ring gear- (i think it's called Kenna #8), because i suck at describing stuff. also, i really really really enjoyed writing the start of this chapter, where Ro doesn't trust her but is in too deep to even care.**

 **next chapter we finally get to see Kenna in the ring against Alicia Fox, and some fallout between The Shield when things don't really go Roman's way...**

 **to _Raquel the writer_ (** thank you! **) and _quinzel harley_ (** your reviews make updating worth it! im glad you enjoyed the last chapter as much as i did, it was so incredibly fun to write! **), thank you both so much for your reviews.**

 **much love x**


	9. Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

**Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is**

It was difficult not to look impatient as she paced the length of the gorilla, waiting for the moment her theme blared across the speakers. Kenna was alone, her fingers shaking as she twisted them around the hem of her leather jacket. She could feel eyes on her and it raised hairs on the back of her neck, but she didn't bother trying to meet eyes— she was still trying to get her nerves under control.

Her skin was still prickling where Dean had touched her and Kenna pressed her arms against a wall and pushed against them, screwed her eyes shut.

 _Alicia Fox. Win. Kane. Roman._

It was like a chorus in her mind, because lately she'd had trouble even focusing on one thing that _wasn't_ Roman Reigns.

And then all she could hear was her theme.

It had crossed her mind more than a few times that if she was really supposed to be here to mess with her brother, she'd just use something that belonged to Motörhead. Instead, she'd chosen to go her own way and choose something that was a little less… _Lenny_.

As Kenna stood at the top of the ramp, she let the heat wash over her. Not one single person was cheering for her.

Somehow, this twisted the corner of her mouth up, and she started the walk towards the squared circle. The titantron behind her played a pre-filmed clip of Hunter and Stephanie deciding what to do with her, and then finally settling on this match. It was mostly for the storyline, and slowly the jeers became cheers as they realised she was out here not to talk, but to wrestle.

"Introducing first, from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania— _Kenna Swan!_ "

She leant against the ropes, fingers wrapped tight around the material as she waited for Alicia Fox to make her way down to the ring, and the other woman didn't look impressed at all; in fact, she looked both shocked and angry as Lilian announced her.

"What am I even doing here?" Alicia asked as obnoxiously as she could. "I'm not fighting the boss' little sister! You can't even _wrestle!_ "

The woman stopped talking the moment The Shield's theme rang out.

Kenna could see the confusion followed quickly by fear on Alicia Fox's face. She was watching with wide eyes as Dean Ambrose led the pack down, Seth Rollins in the middle, and Roman Reigns rounding them up at the back, and when Kenna followed her gaze, she found she couldn't look away from Roman— because his arms were slick with oil and his hair was falling across his face, and his pale eyes were dead on her.

She was with The Shield now. She _was_ The Shield now. It was all for one and one for all when it came to the faction, and Kenna had been stupid to expect for them not to show her support by staying ringside. She quickly turned back to Fox, assessed the way she hadn't laid her eyes on anything else except Dean. _Interesting._

Though the Diva was tentative at first, the match started simple enough.

The two women locked up, Kenna's strength being tested when Alicia pushed her against the ropes. She shoved off and was thrown to the mat in a simple takedown, Alicia going for a quick cover. Kenna raised her shoulder before the ref could get to one and wasn't quick enough to move her arm— Fox had caught it and locked it in an adapted armbar. She raised to her feet and then felt herself sailing through the air again, Alicia going for another attempted cover.

And _now_ she was getting frustrated.

Kenna locked her jaw, rolled to the other side of the ring for some breathing distance, and her eyes turned firey as she watched Alicia parade around the ring like she'd won something.

Kenna stood straight away and the Diva's attention was back on her, the two circling each other again before locking up a third time— and Kenna didn't hesitate. She angled both of their connected bodies down and then raised a knee into the soft flesh of Alicia's stomach, listened as air flew out of the woman's mouth in a shocked gasp.

She forced herself away and spun, sinking her boot into the same spot with an audible whack, and then threw herself up into a dropkick that landed right on the button of Alicia's nose.

Fast as lightening, Kenna had hooked a leg in a cover.

Alicia kicked out at two and seemed to be craving the same space Kenna had just moments before, because she rolled out of the ring to the sound of jeers… and turned right around to stare Dean Ambrose in the eyes.

She seemed to freeze.

Kenna found herself slowly walked towards the ropes, her fingers wrapping tightly around them as she watched a smirk tug at Ambrose's face.

"Now she's lookin' at someone who's just as crazy as she is!" JBL stated, and Kenna barely heard as she backed away from the ropes. Instead, she opted to move to the furthest ropes and leant against them, crossing one leg over the other to look as patient as possible.

Because if Dean Ambrose wanted to cost her this match, she knew that he wouldn't just have her to deal with— he was treading a thin line with Roman Reigns as it was.

It was only when the referee reached five in his ten count that Fox seemed to realise there was still a match happening. She slowly shifted her gaze back to the ring and slid into it, and Kenna could see in her eyes that something had changed. Was she scared? Did she realise that she couldn't use the outside as her own space? Because whatever it was, she had began to look at Kenna like she was a real threat.

The two women circled each other once more, meeting in another lockup, and somehow Kenna was pulled down into a headlock. Fox twisted her, tried to disorient her, but Kenna had the whereabouts to fling Alicia towards the ropes— and she ran at the opposite ones, quick as lightning as she turned and delivered a flying lariat that had the woman twirling through the air and landing on her stomach.

Kenna lurched forwards in a cover and clenched her jaw as Alicia kicked out at two, but she didn't let up. She lifted one of the woman's long legs and twisted them both, leaning back and smiling in glee as she locked in a single leg crab hold.

"Tap!" Kenna screamed, " _Tap!_ "

Her face pulled in effort and Alicia was screeching, clawing at the canvas as she desperately tried to reach the ropes. " _Tap_ , Foxy!" Kenna yelled again.

But the woman was defiant. A couple of seconds later and Alicia had reached the ropes, and the referee was in Kenna's face, yelling at her to let go— but Kenna just bit down on her bottom lip and shook her head, arched her back further and listened to the Diva scream in agony. It was only when the ref reached four that Kenna slammed the woman's leg down onto the mat.

Kenna turned, watched as Alicia writhed in pain, and her eyes flickered to where the men of The Shield were standing looking impressed. A smile tilted the corners of her mouth.

It wasn't like she had to prove anything to them at all, but knowing that they were slowly starting to respect her wrestling style had her heart fluttering happily.

"Disqualify her ref!" Alicia Fox screeched, and suddenly Kenna was focused back on her, stepping forwards only to have the referee pushed her back. " _Hold her back!_ Who do you think you are, Swan?!"

When Kenna reached forwards for the Diva a second time, she found the ref in her way once more— Alicia had yanked him between them and used him as her protection, and Kenna's teeth bared in annoyance. And then he was gone and Alicia had launched her boot into Kenna's thigh, laughing in glee as she hit the mat face first.

Kenna was right back up, and Fox dived into her in a heavy clothesline, moving away quickly as Kenna got back to her feet— but not for long. Fox had her on her back in a matter of seconds, the wind gone from her lungs due to another clothesline, and Kenna barely kicked out of the attempted cover.

"C'mon, Kenna!" Alicia mocked her, straddling her waist, slapping at her face. "C'mon, fight back!"

The diva was gone suddenly, and she gazed up at the roof for a dazed second before rolling onto her stomach, hazel eyes focusing on woman perched precariously on the turnbuckles.

Kenna pushed up onto a knee and waited, waited until Alicia had turned and was preparing to jump off before the launched into a run, propelling herself up the same turnbuckles and jumping to wrap her legs around Alicia's shoulders— and then pulled both herself and Alicia back towards the canvas in an avalanche Frankensteiner.

Kenna made a quick cover and almost _screamed_ when Alicia managed to kick out at two.

And she'd had enough. Kenna was starting to sweat, her eyes fiercely cold, and there was no way this match was going beyond ten minutes. Alicia Fox didn't deserve to be in the ring with her for that long.

Slowly and deliberately, Kenna picked Alicia off the mat and shoved her head between gartered thighs. She spun the woman so her back was to the Shield, so she could see the titantron, and chicken-winged both of Fox's arms behind her back— almost like she was preparing to deliver a pedigree. But instead, in an impressive showing of strength, she lifted the woman into the air and delivered a flawless sitout powerbomb.

Alicia didn't move as Kenna covered her and picked up the win.

Her finisher, Bloodline, was a play on Triple H's Pedigree. They both utilised the double underhook and the name of Kenna's finisher was a director synonym to Hunter's. If anything, _that_ was what connected them beyond anything else.

She was as equally surprised as The Shield when she finally focused on what the crowd was screaming, and smiled genuinely when she recognised the ' _this is wrestling_ ' chant.

But as soon as the referee had raised her hand, screeching and searing hot fire shot through the ring posts and into the air.

Kenna spun wildly in the ring and visibly jumped when The Shield slipped into the squared circle. Her wide eyes latched onto Roman's and automatically he pulled her behind him, away from the ramp, and told Ambrose and Rollins to stay by her side as he walked towards the titantron.

They didn't listen to him.

Perched just slightly behind him, Dean and Seth were peering at the entrance ramp. They didn't notice the way the ring shifted, nor the darkened stature of a man now separating Kenna from them.

Because now Kenna was staring with wide eyes at the masked monster himself. Kane's hand shot out to wrap around her throat and as loud as she could, Kenna screamed Roman's name. But what Kenna didn't expect was for Kane to sling her arm over his shoulder, because she _wasn't supposed to be taking a chokeslam._

Her back hit the canvas in such a way that the breath flew from her lungs, and there was another crash as Reigns flung himself into Kane with a spear.

Despite the lack of oxygen in her body, Kenna's head wouldn't stop spinning.

 _What had just happened?_

—

"What the hell happened out there?!"

"We thought—"

"I _told_ you to stay with her! _We_ know how Kane works! _We_ know it was a distraction! _You_ decided to abandon someone who is just as much a part of The Shield as _I_ am, so what the _fuck_ were you thinking?!"

"We don't follow _orders_ from you!"

"She is The Shield! _We protect our own!_ "

Roman was _bellowing._ He was beyond angry, his fists clenching and unclenching, arms flexing, lips pulled back over his teeth as he snarled at Ambrose. They'd started on opposite ends of the room and were now nose to nose and the tension between them was raising the hair on Kenna's arms, the altercation not even coming _close_ to stopping the pounding of her head.

Rollins sat quietly behind her, hands trying to press ice into her aching back.

The room descended into a heavy silence.

"Enough," Kenna finally said. "Both of you can stop. It was a mistake, a stupid decision. Never in a million years did I think Kane would ever chokeslam me, but if I'd known… I would have been out of there quicker than anything. I don't blame you guys for anything. This is on _Kane_ , not you, so pull your heads out of your asses and figure out a way to make the score even, otherwise he's gonna get exactly what he wanted— a Shield that _isn't on the same page_."

For a long moment, Kenna thought that both Reigns and Ambrose had completely ignored her. But then Dean's eyes dropped, and he shifted a foot backwards as he stepped back from the confrontation.

"Kenna's right. Kane's gotta pay for what he did," Seth piped up. "He attacked us, so we go after him. He's got friends here, doesn't he?" The smirk was evident in his voice, and she could almost feel how his eyes darkened. "He won't have any after tomorrow night."

—

Kenna's phone buzzed for what seemed like the tenth time since she'd tossed her bags down in the hotel room. Though Roman wanted to stay with her, she'd pushed him towards his boys so they could spend the morning plotting without waking her. God knows she would need sleep after taking one hell of a bump during RAW.

 ** _Call me_** , the text from her brother read, and Kenna sighed before tapping one back to him.

 ** _Tomorrow, I'm exhausted and don't really feel like dealing with Kane or what happened._**

She shut her phone down then and pulled her body off the queen bed, groaning as she stripped from her street clothes, lying back down on the covers with just a comfortable bra and underwear.

No words could capture her thoughts.

Maybe she'd been put into that canvas so hard it killed a couple of brain cells, but after the fallout between The Shield, she couldn't even be mad at what had happened; how could she? Kane needed to be angry and going a half mile wouldn't cut it in this business. Her body hurt, and she couldn't deny that, but it hadn't been for nothing.

She must have drifted off to sleep along that train of thought, because next thing Kenna knew, she jolted awake. Her body was rigid and the air in the room shifted and she couldn't see a damn thing because it was pitch black.

 _Was Dean in her room?_

A hand trailed down across the back of her head and the bed dipped, a strong arm curling around her waist to pull her back against a large, solid body. _Roman_ , she thought, because Dean would never be this gentle nor this calm in such a compromising position.

"How'd you get in here?" she murmured into the darkness.

His voice was just as soft as he replied. "Sweet talked the receptionist."

"Bet she fell into your charm like a fuckin' waterfall."

" _He_ certainly did."

Kenna shifted in his arms to try and gaze at Roman's face, but there was nothing to see. "He?"

"My charm isn't reserved for just females."

Cautiously, Kenna reached a hand out and trailed it down his bearded cheek until her thumb was at his bottom lip, and then she arched up to press her lips slowly to his. "Go to sleep," she whispered against his mouth, "big day tomorrow."

* * *

 **so- Kenna wins her first match, tensions rise between the Shield members, and everyone's left wanting revenge against Kane...**

 **Kenna's theme is "Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is" by _Jet_ , an oldie but definitely a goodie and definitely something that fits Kenna Swan to the T. Along that line, if you have any recommendations for me, be sure to tell! In case you want to know Kenna's wrestling outfit, just visit my polyvore site (under raaeebrucee) and it's the one called Kenna #8.**

 **thankyou to _Raquel the writer_ (** Michelle McCool, the Undertaker's wife **), _quinzel harley_ (** i find that water is a common factor in most of my newer stories... it was difficult for me to try and write Undertaker realistically, so i'm glad i did him justice in your mind! do you like Kenna's in ring style? **), and _Dana1_ (** must be a miracle that you got through 8 chapters, then, thanks :] **) for leaving comments and some constructive criticism. Let me know what you think about this chapter!**

 **next, we see Kenna finally talk to her brother and Stephanie about what Kane did, and how that affects the rest of the roster.**

 **much love x**


	10. BeFoUr

**BeFoUr**

Her thinking had been flawed since Dean broke into her house. He'd said that The Shield would have her back, but maybe not in the way she thought they would. Because, as much as Roman Reigns wanted to think that she was one of them now? She wasn't.

She would never be The Shield.

And she could never afford to think she was, either.

Kenna woke the next morning with Roman's soft snoring filling the silence of the room.

She was startled, because she couldn't remember whether she'd got up to let him in or— no. No, he'd sweet talked one of the receptionists to get a keycard. _Right_. Because _obviously_ that was something that he was fond of doing; breaking into apartments, just like his brother. Silently, Kenna wondered who picked up the habit from who.

Quietly, Kenna dressed herself in the clothes she would be wearing for the rest of the day. A ribbed black tank was tucked into high waist khaki jeans, and she pulled on her usual thigh high boots over the green material. Next was the gold jewellery, but the makeup she would worry about when she got to the arena.

Kenna packed everything else into her suitcase and then scribbled a message for Roman on a room service card.

She was walking through the door before she could hesitate.

It wasn't like she was running— even though she felt like it was exactly that. Kenna needed space. Because, even to herself, she couldn't hide the growing feelings she had towards the Samoan. And how would she be able to break them if she was falling in love with him?

"You're up early."

Kenna skidded to a halt at the voice and felt bristles start to rise on the back of her neck. When she turned, Seth Rollins was standing at his own hotel room door.

"I—" she broke off, unsure of what to say. "I can't sleep. And I need to get to the arena, sort out some shit by myself."

He inclined his head at her. "Need any help with that?"

"Nothing you can do to help."

Seth stared at her for a moment before nodding his acceptance. "Roman ended up sleeping with you, didn't he?"

A deep flush crawled up Kenna's chest, and she looked at the floor before looking back at him. "Uh… yeah. He pulled a Dean on me and broke into my room. He's still asleep, but you can have the keycard if you want to go in and talk to him…"

"Think I'll let him have his beauty sleep."

It was difficult for Kenna to get a read on Seth Rollins. He didn't say much, didn't really speak to her much, but they were on the same wavelength intelligence wise. He could read people as easily as she could, and she'd always have to be careful when it came to the Architect. Possibly, if she wasn't here to break The Shield with Roman, she'd have suggested to her brother that Rollins would be the one to turn against his comrades.

Maybe she could still go that route if their _Plan A_ didn't work.

Hunter always seemed to have a _Plan B_ , anyway.

"Anyway, you go do what you're gonna do. Shoot us a text if you need us— I'm sure Roman won't be too far away." He said it with a smile, one that wasn't too sarcastic, one genuine enough that she didn't feel guilty.

Kenna went to turn around but then paused, clenched her jaw for a moment as she pondered what she wanted to get out of this shitfest. "Seth…" she waited until the man had turned back towards her, and she lowered her eyes. "I'm not The Shield. You guys are, not me. Make sure Roman sees that, alright? We're just using each other, it's just a business partnership. Roman and I… just because there's something between us doesn't mean I'm part of The Shield. I'm not, okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

She turned her back without even glancing at him, didn't give him the opportunity to see the emotions flickering across her face even if she wasn't lying.

Three hours and a plane ride later, and after seemingly endless phone calls and voicemails to her step-brother, Kenna was stood in front of his makeshift office in the arena.

There were still five hours before the show started, and she knew that The Shield would be driving down, setting them on the arena just before the night was set to begin. So, she knew for the moment that she was safe, not having to worry about whether she'd be seen attending such a 'prestigious' meeting.

As she walked in, Kenna wasn't surprised to see the faces she was greeted with

Hunter sat behind a wooden desk, Stephanie standing behind him, and Kane was sat in front of them with his mask hanging limply in his hand (whether that was something that held unexplainable power over him or something that was just a prop to support his mood swings, Kenna wasn't sure of).

"Kenna," Hunter said with a gentle smile. "Glad to see you're actually here in one piece."

He shot a pointed glare at Kane, and Kenna didn't miss the roll of Stephanie's eyes. She stared at the other woman for a long moment before taking a seat on the chair next to Kane. "I'm fine."

Stephanie smiled arrogantly. "Just as I knew you would be."

"It was your idea, then?" Kenna asked shortly, interlocking her fingers over crossed legs. "Because last I knew, Kane wasn't chokeslamming me."

"Plans change, Kenna."

"As I'm well aware of," Kenna shot back, "because plans have changed twice on me now without so much as a warning. And don't get me wrong, Stephanie, I'm fine with _plans changing_ , what I'm not fine with is being blindsided and unprepared for such a heavy bump."

It was like ice on fire. Kenna was angry and Stephanie just _didn't care_. But she would.

"See, I don't even understand why Kane's in here. He took a direct order from you Stephanie, so there's no way he should be punished between the three of us— but when it comes to SmackDown tonight, that's a different story. He's going to be targeted for _your_ choice, not his own, and so whatever happens to him tonight is going to be on _you_."

"Kenna—"

With a hiss, Stephanie slammed her palms down on the table in front of her husband and sneered at Kenna, effectively cutting Hunter off. "What happens tonight is on _you_. You're the one who concocted this idea and you're the one it's going to fall back on when all is said and done."

"And you're the one who couldn't do it yourself, who needed _my_ help, so if you want me to stay and continue to give _my help_ , then you better start treating me like we're equals."

"We're not equals," the woman laughed at her. "You're under my payroll, which means I'm your boss—"

"Stephanie—"

"I'm not under your payroll," Kenna hissed back at her, finally standing so she was staring right into Stephanie's eyes. "You're not my boss and inside these four walls, I will never answer to you."

"You bitch—"

" _Enough!_ "

Kenna's head snapped towards where Triple H was kneading his knuckles into his temples, and for a long moment, silence echoed around the room.

It wasn't rare for Stephanie and Kenna to have at each other like this— in fact, it happened almost every time they saw each other. Kenna neither trusted nor respected Stephanie and never had, and because of it, Stephanie didn't bother hiding her disdain for her step-sister-in-law. And, like usual, Hunter was left to play the peacemaker.

Hunter's nostrils flared as his eyes slid shut, and then he said, "Kane, you're dismissed. Word of this gets out and I'm terminating your contract with us immediately. _No one_ knows."

The giant of a man left the room quickly and silently, but Kenna's eyes were still latched onto Stephanie's furious face.

"I've had enough," Hunter said more calmly. "You two might not like each other or this situation, but we're on the same team. Our job here is to dismantle The Shield, _not_ the Authority. Kenna does it from the inside and we do it from the outside, and that's not up for debate. From this moment onwards, Stephanie, everything you change, you run by me," at this, the woman made an indignant sound— but Hunter continued like he hadn't even heard it. "Absolutely everything, _especially_ when you change something to do with Kenna. The bump she took last night, even though it came from us, was _completely_ unacceptable, and it's not going to happen again."

"You're taking her side."

"There are no sides to take," he hissed back at her. "Do you understand how bad it looks when one of the talents directly related to The Authority chokeslams a woman? For a company that is anti-violence against women, we sure as hell didn't look it last night."

Stephanie huffed in frustration and shook her head, paced the length of the room until she stood in the far corner with a pout at her lips. _Like a child_ , Kenna thought.

"As for you, Kenna…"

The young woman turned her attention back to her step-brother. "As for me?"

"Restrain yourself next time, yeah?" Hunter sighed tiredly. "I understand your anger considering we talked about this last week, but letting that go with Kane in the room wasn't the best idea."

"Duly noted," she shrugged it off, but there was something else pressing her mind. "You organised the new contract?" Stephanie's head snapped in her direction, and with a start, Kenna realised that she probably had no fucking idea. _Hunter hadn't told her_. She looked back to her brother with a raised eyebrow. "She doesn't know, does she?"

"She doesn't know what?" Stephanie said slowly. "Hunter? What don't I know?"

Kenna'd put her foot in her mouth without even realising, and Hunter's levelled glare had her own eyes widening in an unspoken apology.

He sighed before turning to his wife. "We're renegotiating Kenna's contract."

" _Why?_ "

"We're bringing her on as a Talent, Live Events & Creative Consultant, as well as a part-time talent when she's finished with The Shield," Hunter explained lowly. "It means she's responsible for herself and doesn't answer to anyone apart from Vince. And also includes a hefty pay raise."

Stephanie's voice was croaky when she asked, "How much?"

"It doesn't matter—"

" _How much?_ "

"One million as a talent on the basis of three show stopping pay-per-view events, and four hundred thousand as a consultant," Hunter replied easily, and he turned to face his wife. "On top of that, profit sharings from merchandise sales and TV appearances."

The woman looked pale.

It was a small consolation that in a years time, Kenna would be close to two million dollars richer. She'd always had money because of her family and because of herself, but never like this.

"That's ridiculous," Stephanie finally managed to say, and her eyes were wide. "That's more than I earn."

Kenna's eyebrows shot to her hairline— because _really?_ Of everything, the McMahon was upset about the difference in wages? "I thought you'd be more upset about the fact that I'm never going to answer to you," Kenna mused aloud, deliberately ignoring Hunter's glare. "Guess money _is_ everything to you. If it's any consolation, Steph, I'll probably end up donating my bonuses to a worthy cause."

"Bonuses," she mimicked, "because you're going to get more than one… how long is the contract?"

"Two years."

"…Right."

Stephanie's change in attitude was certainly odd, and Kenna was confused— this wasn't just about the money. No. Stephanie McMahon was just as conniving and ruthless as Kenna was, and her mind was probably running over a thousand scenarios of the near future. Most of which, no doubt, would end with Kenna getting what she wanted.

 _She was planning._

Kenna's eyes narrowed but she didn't say anything about it. "Okay, so now that _that's_ out of the way— The Shield are planning to go after the New Age Outlaws tonight. They'll lay out the WrestleMania challenge next week, probably, but it'll give you guys some time to prepare."

"Don't get too caught up, Ken. We don't need another repeat of RAW happening, intentional or not. I'm not going to let you get hurt again."

 _It's too late for that, isn't it?_ Kenna thought sombrely.

She mostly tuned out to what he said next, frowning as her phone buzzed in her pocket. When she pulled the device out, a message from Roman was staring back at her.

 ** _We need to talk. Tonight._**

 _Ominous._

Kenna didn't know what to make of the short message. She thought back to the note she'd left him, to the encounter she'd had with Seth Rollins, and stopped short. The note had said something along the lines of ' _need some space for a while, I'll meet you at the arena_ ', and she'd told Rollins to pass on the message that Kenna was not part of The Shield— so, maybe, _somehow_ , he thought she was trying to end things.

 ** _I'm already at the arena, let me know when you get here and where you want to chat._**

It was probably nothing, but with the men of The Shield? She could never know for sure.

* * *

 **so, very quick apologies for the lengthy wait for this, i got the flu and have been feverish all week and been unable to even look at words and concentrate on them, but am feeling on the mend, so hopefully it means another update soon :) also, chapter is named after 'BeFoUr' by Zayn**

 **to _Raquel the Writer_ (** thanks! **), and _quinzel harley_ (** thought you'd like the finisher and name ;) also, i agree, but being broken in on is about to really start sucking for Kenna when it keeps happening again and again! i like your last point and made a conscious effort to have Kenna realise what had happened, so hopefully this makes it different? let me know x **), thank you so much for dropping a review!**

 **i'm noticing that we're slowly getting more followers! don't be afraid to let me know how you think this is going and where i can improve!**

 **all the love x**


	11. Keep Lying

**Keep Lying**

Kenna was beginning to tap colour onto her lips when she thought she saw the tail end of a man in black uniform. She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and chewed against it, debating whether or not running after the Shield men was a life she wanted to live— and in the end, ended up finishing the rest of her makeup and packing everything else back into the bag. If she needed The Shield, they would come running. If they needed her, they knew how to contact her.

Hunter had once told her when she was a teenager that being a woman in a man's world was like being a kite in a hurricane. Back then, she'd laughed him off and told him that it was just a much a woman's world… because she hadn't entirely understood what he'd been trying to say.

In this moment, now, with a bad choice looming over her head and the consequences of it twisting her mind at every turn, she understood _exactly_ what it meant.

She felt like a paper-thin kite in a category five hurricane being ripped apart and discarded, only for it to happen all over again the next day. Her head was a constant battle of whether it was worth it or not, and each day, Kenna would have to remind herself that it was too late not to sleep in her bed now that she'd made it.

It was an impossibly difficult situation.

But, instead of mentally torturing herself, Kenna pushed her hair back off her face and took a deep breath, tried to calm her body down to a level she could control.

SmackDown tonight was for one thing and one thing only; to deliver a message. A message to the world, to the locker room, but more importantly a message to Stephanie McMahon, and Kenna knew that she'd be pushing the boundaries before she even opened her mouth.

The hallways were beginning to fill with life, and occasionally, she'd catch someone staring oddly in her direction. But too many people meant that the show was fast approaching, and she intended to kick it off— so she gathered the rest of her belongings and pushed away from the production box, chin inclined as she moved past runners and film crews.

And then a large hand was wrapping around the top of her arm, tugging her in a completely different direction than she needed to.

"What—"

Gracelessly, Kenna stumbled into an empty room, spinning when she heard the door close, and was ready to launch herself back— and then she saw the way Roman's eyes were burning.

His hair was falling wet and heavy across his shoulders and there were a couple of strands hanging over his left eye, and he was already dressed in his ring gear but _fuck_ , did she want to strip him out of it. His face was set like stone and had she not seen the fire in his eyes, she would have thought he was mad.

Except she'd seen that fire in his eyes before.

"Roman…"

A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. "Somethin' 'bout you makes me think you're a dangerous kinda woman," he said lowly. "Leave me in your hotel room, have another man tell me your choices because I misread the situation, and then look at me like you want me to fuck you on the spot."

She couldn't reply to him. The tension rolling off of Roman was overwhelming, and he wasn't even standing near her.

The smirk on Roman's face twisted dangerously and his eyes darkened, and then he was stalking towards her. Kenna didn't realise she'd been retreating until her back hit the wall. The breath flew from her lungs in a gasp as Roman's hands reached her, pulling her against his body, and she arched back just as his mouth claimed hers.

He didn't kiss her like there were strings attached.

He was hungry and dominant and overpowering, pushing his tongue past her lips, the taste of berry intoxicating and making her head spin. His hands were so large they almost spanned the entirety of her ribcage, and Kenna felt like a different kind of small then, felt fragile and vulnerable.

"I thought you said you needed to talk," she tried to say against his mouth, pulling back a little, but the new angle had Roman chasing her and pushing her back against the wall.

Something about his movements was desperate. The way he was clutching at her was like he was trying to keep her not only in this moment but in a different kind of way, too, and Kenna felt it like led weight in her blood when she realised that he probably thought this was the only way he could convince her to stay with _him_.

She was pushing against his chest then, turning her head away, anything to get him to stop and just _talk_ to her, but when his mouth locked on her neck, Kenna turned to putty in his hands.

It was like her eyes rolled back into her head and her entire body went slack. Roman's efforts went into holding her upright against the wall, and the hands that had been pushing at his chest were now gripping his vest for support, because he was doing this thing with his teeth and tongue— she was almost panting. Her breath was coming heavy through parted lips and washing against his arms, and if he couldn't hear her reaction, he could definitely feel it.

He knew he was doing something right, because in the next moment, one of his hands had dropped to the zip of her jeans, fingers brushing against the material until they curled between her thighs.

"Roman, Roman, Roman, Roman," Kenna rushed out quietly, squirming under his touch almost frantically to try and stop him. "We can't do this here, I can't— I have to go—"

"Shh…" he trailed off against her neck. Nothing in his demeanour told Kenna that he would stop, but his movements for the moment had. "We can, we will. S'long as you ain't screaming, we'll be fine."

He inclined his palm against her jeans and curled his fingers just the slightest, flexed his arm until he was supporting most of her weight in the one hand, and an almost inhuman noise sounded at the back of Kenna's throat at the pressure pushing her down against him, and his mouth hovered above hers in such a way he pulled the sound into his own lungs.

But her mind still wouldn't shut down. "We— we— you needed to talk."

"Later," he said, and Kenna gazed at him through half-lidded eyes for a moment before flinging both arms around his neck and tangling her fingers through his soaking hair.

The length of her body curled up into him, lips pressing messy against his in an open-mouthed kiss, and it wasn't sensual in the slightest, but full of passion and burning desire they both felt. Roman's hands were moving again, but this time popping the button of her jeans and pushing between the material and her skin, and Kenna sighed around his name when his calloused fingers sunk between her burning thighs.

There was a finger at her clit, the others stroking her softly, and Kenna's moans became little pleas when he rubbed against her faster, almost to the extent of her begging into the skin of his neck.

"C'mon, baby girl," Roman growled into her ear, and she was gone.

Her entire body felt like it collapsed in on itself. Thighs flexing, body curving around Roman's arm, her hot breath keeping the damp skin at his neck wet, and the white hot heat of the orgasm shot from her core to the tips of her toes. Silence echoed around them both as he kept at his movements to make her climax as long as possible, but as soon as she sucked in a shuddery breath, he stopped completely.

Kenna was clutching at him like a lifeline, the nails on one hand digging into the skin of his arm, nails on the other bitting into the bare skin of his back.

Despite her lack of breath, she was still the first to speak. "You gonna—" Kenna broke off and sucked another breath in, gazed up at Roman and motioned to the obvious tent in his black pants, and she _really_ didn't have time to help him.

"Tonight." Roman said, and the tone in his voice was like he was making a promise to her. "I've got a room to myself."

An involuntary shudder moved down Kenna's spine at the thought of that, and she didn't miss the way another smirk was beginning to pull the corners of his mouth up.

—

She stood in the centre of the ring, looking around the arena like she was both impressed and disappointed at the same time. Alone, holding a microphone in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other, Kenna had a lot to get off of her chest. SmackDown tag-team oriented and usually started off with such a match— not tonight. Tonight, she was holding SmackDown hostage.

They'd run a replay of Kane's chokeslam more than a few times during the rest of RAW, and they'd run it just before she came out, so there was no doubt in her mind that everyone knew exactly what she was out here for.

"Imagine my surprise, Monday night on RAW, when Kane chokeslams me," Kenna started slowly, gazing around at the different faces staring back at her. "I've won my first match in the WWE against a great competitor, proven to my brother and the Authority that I'm not messing around, proven to The Shield that I'm worthy of their time, and then eat a chokeslam for my efforts. _Imagine my surprise_ when in a company that _prides_ itself on being anti-violence against women, I almost get put through the canvas so a message can be delivered. Imagine my surprise when I come into _work_ this afternoon to the news that not _only_ has Kane gone unpunished, he's been given a _gift_ for his hard work— a bonus large enough to buy him a new car."

Kenna spun to face the titantron, held the sledgehammer out before her so that it was pointing to the gorilla, and tried to fight the smile on her face with the boos pouring down around her; she had the audience in the palm of her hand.

"I came out here with one thing in mind— _revenge_. Because, and I'm not sure if you remember this Kane, a week ago on SmackDown, I told you that if you ever touched me again, I'd kick your nose through the back of your head. Not only did you lay your hands on me on RAW, you _chokeslammed_ me." Kenna tilted her head as a humourless smile pulled at her lips. "In case you didn't quite understand that, I'll just repeat it; Kane, _you chokeslammed me_. Let's ignore the fact that I could have very easily gotten myself out of that situation; I just didn't think you had it in you. I didn't think you were that much of Stephanie McMahon's _bitch_ that you'd actually do absolutely everything she asked of you— because we _both_ know that you'd never lay a finger on me if you weren't told to."

Kenna shook her head. "You've got Stephanie McMahon in one ear and Triple H in the other, but you listened to the wrong Authority leader. Stephanie might've given you that bonus and told you that _all is well_ , but my brother is The Game and you've hurt his little sister— soon enough, Mummy and Daddy are gonna be fighting and little lapdog Kane is gonna have to choose a side."

She dropped the sledgehammer back to the ground, cocked her hip out to the side. "Kane, I know you're out there. See, if there's _one_ thing I learnt from my arrogant, power hungry, screw up of a brother, it's how to get even. So, I've gone ahead and taken the liberty of setting your bonus on fire. You want the money? Come out and get it. I'll cash you out a new cheque."

It didn't take long before Kane's theme was blaring through the arena. Kenna raised her chin, her eyes suddenly exuding a chill that they hadn't before, and watched closely as the big red monster moved to stand a top of the ramp.

But as soon as his music had finished, another theme started— and it wasn't The Shield's.

Moving so that they flanked Kane on either side, Kenna found herself glaring at Billy Gun and Jesse James, severely outnumbered and desperately searching for an escape.

They moved like a faction that had been together for years. The three men sauntered down the ramp and pushed themselves into the ring, and Kenna stood firm in the centre with the sledgehammer thrown across her shoulder, the weapon more of a warning than a tool of destruction, but her eyes weren't cold anymore— she'd bit off more than she could chew and it was beginning to show.

"I don't really care about the money," Kane spoke into his own microphone, "and I don't really care about the fact that I chokeslammed you Monday night on RAW… but if you call me a bitch one more time, The Shield won't be picking you up from the canvas— they'll be picking you up from the hospital."

Kenna changed her grip on the sledgehammer and let it fall heavy to mat in a threat, her eyes narrowing. "Try it."

Kane didn't have the chance.

The heavy riff of The Shield's entrance music stopped anything else he was about to do, and Kenna found a satisfied smile forming across her face. She didn't turn from the men in front of her to watch the uniformed Shield walk through the crowd, but watched from the corner of her eyes as they finally made it ringside.

Roman was beside her very quickly, Dean and Seth slightly behind them, and she could feel the tension rolling off of him.

"Try it, Kane," Kenna repeated into the microphone. "Put me in the hospital. See where it gets you. I don't need to wrestle men to prove that I'm the best thing going around, but you'll learn very quickly that if you make an enemy out of me, I'll be the worst thing you've ever laid your eyes on."

She threw the microphone over her shoulder and the _thud_ echoed around the arena, but Kane was glaring at her with a fire in his eyes that she couldn't quite place. Roman squared his shoulders beside her and she watched as Kane's eyes flickered between them suggestively, like he knew _everything_ she didn't want him to know, like he had a weapon she'd never be able to counter, and her mouth pursed angrily. _He wouldn't dare_.

He didn't.

Instead, Kane turned his back and slipped from the ring, the New Age Outlaws following suit, and the crowd was booing so intensely that Kenna felt it in her bones.

But Kenna wasn't here to play nice.

She turned her head to Roman, dropped the microphone so only he and the cameras could hear her. "I think it's time to send a message of our own."

Ambrose, who was standing slightly behind him, smiled like he'd been given everything he could ever ask for… and then The Shield was bolting from the ring and laying a beating so heavy on Kane, Gunn and James that their message was clear— they fought for Kenna Swan. And Kenna was staring down at the war she'd helped create with a curve at her mouth, calculating eyes observing the unit she was preparing to shatter.

 _They had no fucking idea_.

* * *

 **chapter title is after ' _Keep Lying_ ' by Donna Missal, which i feel fits this entire story up until now perfectly. i don't really like how this chapter went at the end, but there's been developments; Kenna's being protected by The Shield, and she's called the Authority out- will the cracks start to show in The Authority as well as The Shield?**

 **next, Kenna runs into some old friends and she gets another visit from some Shield boys... what oh what is happening?!**

 **to Raquel the Writer (** oh my lord, that's good, right?! first time you've been speechless with my writing! **) and quinzel harley (** tbh, those figures were based off of what Trips earns... I'm planning on building something between Kenna and all the boys, which I think you'll like :) also, your wish is my command with the sexy time? enjoy! **), thank you so much for your support and reviews, let me know what you think of this chapter. to new readers/followers, don't be afraid to drop a line! i don't bite (much)!**

 **much love xx**


	12. Thick As Thieves

**Thick As Thieves**

Kenna had spent the following morning tangled in the sheets with Roman Reigns. There was something about the smooth skin of his chest, the tattoos, the rounded and soft muscles that did her head in— and she'd lost count of how many times she'd orgasmed.

But Roman had gone back to Pensacola to see his family for the two days he got off, and Kenna had flown in the opposite direction towards Paradise Cove for two days to herself.

Shamelessly, she'd gotten the locks on her doors changed and a second one added after Dean had broken into her home. She didn't know whether he'd make a habit of dropping by, but if he did, at least now he'd have to knock and announce himself. She'd never let herself be caught that vulnerable ever again; once was more than enough.

Ten minutes after she'd walked through the door, Kenna was back out it. Dressed in running shorts and a singlet, with headphones secured, she was gone for another hour before she returned with pink cheeks and sweaty arms.

But the blood in her veins turned to ice when she saw a car in her driveway that wasn't hers.

She tugged her headphones out and silently made her way through the overgrown greenery to the pathway that led to the front door, stopping short at the sound of voices she recognised all too well.

"I'm not sure this is the greatest idea."

"Dude, it's fine, this is the best idea I've ever had— she changed the fuckin' locks, though…"

"Maybe she did that after you broke in _the first time_."

"Did I ask for your opinion, Rollins?"

It was very obviously Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose, and when she peered around the corner, Seth was standing with his back against the door, his arms crossed, and Dean was kneeling as he fiddled around with lock picks and a swiss army knife.

Seth glanced at his watch. "I thought you said this would take you two minutes."

"I'd like to see you try and open this fuckery of a lock," Dean hissed back at him. "Besides, perfection takes time."

"That's a word for it," Rollins snorted, turning around anxiously, and Kenna could feel his apprehension from where she stood. "How do we even know she's home?"

Dean grunted. "Got some friends back in Cinci that taught me a thing or two 'bout keeping tabs on people…she's not with Rome, didn't get on a flight to Connecticut, so she's gotta be here. Also, you heard of this thing called Find My iPhone? Just gotta know the number, 'n got it from Roman's."

"You're actually crazy."

"If that's what you wanna call it… I'd like to think I'm efficient."

"Please tell me you didn't track her phone here."

"No," Dean laughed, "I'm a detective, Find My iPhone is just so we know she's not lyin' to us."

At that, Kenna stepped around the corner so she was in full sight of the two men. They didn't seem to notice her, and so she stayed staring at them with a frown creasing her red face.

"Roman finds out about this and he's gonna have your head on a pike. Mine right next to it."

"Good thing he's not gonna find out about this."

"Says who?"

Both heads snapped around towards her. She was like a mother who had caught two of her kids with their hands deep inside the cookie jar, and both Seth's and Dean's eyes were wide as they looked back at her. Her eyebrow was raised, eyes cold, and she wasn't amused.

Kenna sniffed and raised her chin. "If you two wanted to come visit, I would understand that— you're protecting me know, so why wouldn't you want to come and find out who I am? But for you to invade my privacy, _track my phone_ , and have the gall to try and break into my house _for a second time?_ The _fuck_ is wrong with you people?"

Seth was trying to stutter out a response and Dean, still looking smug as ever, fiddled the weapons back into his jacket pocket. "You changed the lock," he said indignantly, and Seth turned with wide eyes to stare at him.

" _Dean_."

"You _broke into my house!_ " Kenna shot back at him, her eyebrows creased now. "What the fuck else was I supposed to do?!"

Dean snorted. "I don't know, _not_ change the lock? It's _me_ we're talking about, I'm not some psycho serial killer."

"There's not much difference between you and a psychotic serial killer, Ambrose," she deadpanned.

Something flashed in his eyes then and for a long moment, Kenna feared she'd said the wrong thing; the last thing she wanted or needed was an angry lunatic fringe coming for her blood. But the flash in his eyes wasn't dangerous. Instead, it almost seemed to be confusion, and the mood between the three sobered.

"Did you want to start a war?" Kenna asked lowly as she stared at the two men in front of her. "Is that what you want to get out of this? Because if you don't start trusting me, that's what's gonna happen. I may not be eye to eye with my brother right now, but as your _boss_ , how do you think he would react to you breaking into his little sister's house? Sexually assaulting her? How would any boss react to his employee doing that to someone else? 'Cause if you wanna start a war, that's how I'm gonna end it."

The corner of Dean's mouth picked up in a humourless smile and he took a threatening step forward. "That's how you wanna play it, huh? How 'bout we get down to some business, then. You're sleepin' with Rome, and anyone who stands behind that camera can see it plain as day. You like him, we figured that out last time, but I wouldn't put it above a _Helmsley_ to sleep their way into the business and manipulate their feelings to get exactly what they want out of this kinda situation." Ambrose took another step forward, and Kenna felt herself almost shrink under his stoney gaze. "I wouldn't put it past a woman _I don't know_ to use us for all the wrong reasons and then throw it all back in our faces at the end. See, I don't _trust_ people easy, and the only people in the world I _do_ trust— one's standin' behind me and the other you're fuckin', so 'scuse me if I don't take too _kindly_ to whatever the fuck this is."

A deep red flush had crawled up from Kenna's chest to sit heavy across her cheeks. She wasn't embarrassed, not in the slightest, but Ambrose had hit the nail on the head with his insecurities and it was _maddening_ that someone who could be classified as clinically insane had figured her out so easily, whether he knew it or not.

So Kenna focused on that. "You're going to use your _insecurities_ to ruin the only chance you'll ever have at success in this company? Go ahead, throw this _business partnership_ down the drain because I'm _fucking_ your leader," she hissed, and with narrowed eyes she took a step forward, tilted her chin up arrogantly to stare him down. "But let me just go ahead and assume that if it was _you_ I was fucking, this wouldn't have even crossed your mind. If it were _you_ I was fucking, you wouldn't even think twice about doubting me, so y'know what I think? I think you're _jealous_ that Roman Reigns is the one getting to _fuck me_ at the end of the day, I think you're _jealous_ that he got the opportunity you never could—"

She didn't even know it had happened until her back hit the wall. But Dean had advanced on her so quickly, pushed her back against the concrete so quickly that Kenna didn't react until he had his arms caging her head and his nose almost pressing against hers.

But he didn't say anything. His chest was heaving, blue eyes blown wide, jaw locked, and he didn't say a word because he didn't _have_ to. She knew exactly what he was thinking.

"That hit a nerve, didn't it?" Kenna pushed. "Ring rats not doin' it for you anymore, huh? Need someone that's already taken, don't you? What do you think is gonna happen when I tell Roman what's happened here? 'Cause I don't think he's gonna take too kindly to the fact that you're back here tryin' to do what you did last week. I know exactly what you're doing, Ambrose, I know this game you _think_ you're playing, and trust me when I tell you that I know what you're trying to do."

"What am I doing?"

She tilted her head at him. "You're trying to find a flaw in my reactions to you. Something that doesn't match up to what I'm saying, and it's smart, I can give you that, because I wouldn't trust a Helmsley either. But there's no flaw to find, and so you keep picking and picking and picking and it's gonna get you no where 'cept in the gutter with a busted lip. It might be from me, might be from Reigns, _fuck_ it might even be from Rollins, but you're gonna pull this group apart trying to find something that isn't there, and _that_ is the God to fucking truth."

Silence surrounded the two.

Dean, eyes lit like fire with an icy expression, Kenna with a face to match. And Seth, who stood there with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Because _what had he just seen?_

"Now are you gonna back off?" She hissed, her teeth bared. "Or do I need to do something 'bout it?"

Without another word, Dean pushed away from the wall and sauntered around the corner of her courtyard, disappearing from sight completely, and leaving a trail of destruction in his wake.

For a very long moment, neither Seth nor Kenna knew how to approach the thick tension now surrounding them. Kenna had provoked Ambrose completely and garnered that reaction from him, and Seth had done nothing to stop it. They were almost both to blame for the situation spiralling out of control.

Kenna was the first to move. She flattened down her ruffled singlet and sniffed, raised her chin, and then turned to regard Seth with a cold glint to her eye. "Do you have anything else to add, Rollins?"

"I think you and Ambrose said all there needed to be said," Seth replied carefully. When he looked at her, it wasn't like the way Dean looked at her— he was watching her completely, not focused on one thing, and that was infinitely more disconcerting. But almost like he was ashamed, Seth dropped his eyes to the ground and went to walk past Kenna. Except he didn't. "If you weren't related to Helmsley, I would've thought the next closest thing was a McMahon. I'm just glad we have that on our side."

And that sat with Kenna much more deeply than anything else Ambrose had said to her earlier.

—

She wasn't sure what to make of the encounter, even days later. She couldn't talk about it with Roman, couldn't mention it to her brother, couldn't mention it to anyone, really, because she was alone. Alone in every sense of the word— no friends, no safety, no network.

And she found herself alone at the start of Monday Night RAW, no Shield, no Authority, and probably a world of hurt coming her way in the shape of a red monster.

Oh, yeah, she was going to _enjoy_ tonight.

Considering it was only her fourth RAW, Kenna thought she was doing a wonderful job of raising hell, especially with WrestleMania only seven days away. Things were going to plan. It was The Shield versus Kane and the New Age Outlaws, as the latter were to throw out a challenge during the show that would be accepted on the spot.

On top of that, she was getting emails on top of emails in regards to her new job position (technically, Kenna was called a Talent, Live Events & Creative Consultant— simply, she was just someone Stephanie McMahon sent a bunch of shit to as to keep her in the loop with the goings on of the 'E).

She was going to be exhausted after the WrestleMania week and _that much_ was for sure.

But, Kenna's mind was still together enough to recognise the feel of eyes boring into the side of her head. The woman didn't want to look, didn't want to give any oxygen to the brewing fire, but ignored her safety alarms and gazed out of the corner of her eyes… and was pleasantly surprised when she saw two men _not_ Shield, or NAO, or Authority related. At least not yet, anyway.

Randy Orton and Dave Batista, men she'd known since she was a young teenager, and men she hadn't seen in a very long time.

Rather abruptly, Kenna threw her hair over her shoulder and stood, abandoning her cafeteria style food and walking out of the catering area. She hoped to God that they got the message, that they knew she couldn't be seen with them when she had no tabs on the Shield, that they wouldn't be too mad if they didn't realise.

"Kenna!"

The voice was Orton's. Kenna just moved faster to try and find a secluded hallway.

And, bless the God's, the moment she did, the two older men weren't far behind.

A smile almost split Kenna's face in half as she gazed at the concerned men, and as soon as she did, they were smiling right back at her. Randy wrapped his massive arms around her body and crashed himself into her, and Dave did much the same when the Viper let her go.

"God, I haven't seen you shits in ages," Kenna mumbled into Dave's shoulder. "I should've come seen you two when I first got here, but things are a bit…"

When she trailed off and pulled away from Batista, Randy offered "crazy?" with a gentle smirk.

"I think that's the only word appropriate for whatever this fuckfest is."

Dave looked at her skeptically. "Please tell me this shit with Hunter isn't actually real?"

"Depends what you mean by real," Kenna shrugged. "You guys are gonna have to talk to him about it, 'cause I'm not in the business of lying to you two and I don't wanna overstep what he's decided on."

Humming, Randy wrapped a thick arm around her neck and pulled her in against his side. "Smart girl."

Another smile pulled at Kenna's lips. "I learnt from some of the best."

" _Some_ of the best? We _are_ the best," the half-Filipino snorted at her, "don't you forget that."

Randy spoke over Dave like he hadn't even noticed the older man was talking. "We're going out for drinks tomorrow night if you wanna join. H's invited, too."

"I'll think about it." Kenna slapped her hand against Orton's chest a couple of time and pushed away from him, smiled fondly at the two. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I don't really wanna be caught with some old farts such as yourselves. Offence intended."

Kenna sidestepped their flailing arms and cackled, shooting a wink over her shoulder at the spluttering men. Her heart lifted when she realised that, maybe, she wasn't so alone after all. She had two goofballs as older brothers who would probably help her more than hinder her, and the dark cloud that had been hovering over her head the entire weekend seemed to lighten.

* * *

 **okay so wow, unexplained break? i pretty much lost ALL inspiration to write anything and i have no idea why, apart from the fact that i'm sick and tired of the push reigns is getting? like i PROMISE you, he will not end up written like that in this story... jesus, i could do so much with his character if the 'E hired me, i tell ya.**

 **let me know what you thought (if you're still reading), and i can't really promise anymore updates coming quickly... maybe, but probably not. what i _can_ tell you though is that next, Kenna finally sees Roman after what happened with Dean, and some surprising and more light hearted stuff comes 'round when Kenna goes out drinking with Evolution. soz for any grammatical/spelling errors, it's like 5AM. also, the song for the chapter is 'Thick As Thieves' by _The Temper Trap_ , which is an amazing song so you should go check it out :) **

**love you guys lots, drop a review if you're alive, and yeah. adios (y) x**


	13. Hostage

**Hostage**

Apart from the khaki bomber jacket that hung from her shoulders, Kenna was dressed in all black for RAW. There was a sliver of tanned and very toned skin seen between her ripped skinny jeans and turtle neck tank, and the side right side of her hair was secured in a single braid, the other dark blonde strands falling in loose waves.

For a long while now, she'd been stood in front of a screen that was broadcasting the show— her arms were folded and she was taking apart each segment analytically, objectively, preparing herself for a few meetings later on in the week. It was the RAW leading to WrestleMania, and for the next year, she'd never have this experience again. It was the lead up to the big conclusion of the year, the _big fight_ , everything the company had been working towards for the past eleven months. It was the crescendo. And, if Kenna wanted to help lead this company, she needed to note-take as much as she could.

But when her TV screen became Kane's face, Kenna was pulled from her thoughts.

"It appears to me that the only person we have to blame for last week's _beating_ is Kenna Swan," the mask-less man spoke into the microphone. "And usually, I would let something like this slide because of our match at WrestleMania with her _security_ detail. But we had our asses _handed_ to us on a silver platter and that doesn't sit very well with any of us."

Billy Gunn and Jesse James stood next to Kane, both of them nodding their heads in agreement, and Kenna felt a presence peering over her shoulder at the TV screen. She knew it was Roman without having to turn.

"I'd like to believe that as Hunter Hearst Helmsley's little sister, Kenna _Helmsley_ has the dignity to come out here and face us like she would anyone else," Kane continued, his voice becoming a sneer with the last name she'd changed. "I, _personally_ , would like an apology. I wasn't the one that started this war, but I'll be the first one to try and end it."

Kenna stayed glued to her spot with narrowed eyes.

Roman's hand slipped onto her waist. "You going out there?"

"Didn't plan on it, no."

Kane was still talking, and the crowd was jeering at him harshly. "…and as Director of Operations, I have the responsibility to handle this in a way that is best for business. So, Kenna Helmsley, Kenna Swan, whatever name it is that you respond to— please, grace us with your presence. Come out here and we can settle this, business person to business person."

Silence followed his request.

"I don't know what he's talking about," Kenna sniffed at the screen. "Gunn and James are in their wrestling gear, and Kane more often than not wrestles in those exact pants. I'm not stupid."

Almost like he could hear her outright refusal, Kane's lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl. "I'm not going to take silence as an answer, Swan. I won't leave this ring until you're on that ramp and I'm lookin' at you."

"He's not gonna leave," Roman said lowly.

Kenna nodded and sighed, kneading her forehead. She didn't know what this was about, but she wasn't going to go anywhere near him or the New Age Outlaws— the only thing she was aware of with the angle was that their WrestleMania match was being announced tonight.

When Kane stood in that squared circle for another minute, the boos got louder.

"Fine."

With heels that could knock a man out and a man hot on them, Kenna sauntered through the hallways until she found the gorilla, nodding at the sound guys to hit her music, and the sound of cheering deafened her for a long second.

Kenna turned to Roman. "Until I'm in actual danger, I think I can handle this on my own, hot shot." She caught a brief glimpse of a smirk as she turned back to the curtain.

The moment she scooped a microphone up into her hands and the curtains were pulled back for her, Kenna stepped out into the harsh spotlight and right into Kane's line of sight. From where she was, she could see his smirk and feel the smug air radiating from him. He'd got what he wanted.

"Business person to business person, always inform the person you plan to meet with about the meeting," Kenna said lowly into her microphone, eyes boring down at Kane. "And as a business person, Kane, I'd expect you would understand how busy it gets behind the scenes. I have a company to overthrow and bosses to undermine, and you're calling me out here for— for what? A scolding?" She snorted. "You want me to apologise to you, Kane, but the truth of life is that we don't always get what we want. I don't _want_ to be out here, I don't _want_ to answer to my brother and his bitch of a wife, I don't _want_ the Authority in charge of this company. You want an apology? Well, sorry Kane, but you're not getting one."

She could see his nostrils flare from where she stood. "You're going to apologise to me, or I'm going to make your life a living hell," Kane snarled. "By the time I'm done with The Shield, they won't be able to protect you— but you're the one that's going to be paying for their hospital bills _and_ your own if you don't apologise…"

As Kane droned on, Kenna made a show of glancing down at her khaki faced watch, twirled the microphone in her other hand. He was midway through a sentence when she cut him off. "Look, Kane, you're not getting an apology and I don't have time for this, so I'm just gonna go."

Kane was yelling at her now, shouting her name, shouting "how _dare_ you disrespect me" into the mic, but Kenna had already turned her back and disappeared behind the curtain.

Her eyes locked onto Roman's right away. Seth and Dean were perched slightly behind him, and they looked ready for a fight. "You know you want to," Kenna taunted, and the three of them smirked in tandem and sidestepped around her, walking down some stairs to use the side entrance.

And, once she found the closest monitor, Kenna watched as The Shield accepted Kane and NAO's challenge for a WrestleMania match.

Things were beginning to fall into place.

Now that she had Dean pegged, the only variable that unsettled her was Seth Rollins. She was still certain that he knew more than he let on about _everything_ , but apart from asking him outright, she would never know for sure. And, if she was being honest, Seth reminded her a little of Hunter. He was observant, quiet, and that was more dangerous than Dean's unpredictability ever was. Nothing was more frightening to Kenna than a person who was content to just sit back and _watch_. Because eventually, she'd slip up— and he'd catch it.

With her gaze focused on Seth's figure, her back turned away from a small crowd that had started to gather, Kenna felt the hairs on her arms raise, almost as if someone was looking at her.

Maybe Orton, maybe Batista. She wasn't bothered, didn't turn away from the monitor until the next ad played, but was thrown a complete curveball when she turned and, of _all_ people, John Cena was staring back at her.

He wasn't close to where she was standing, leaning on some production boxes a few yards away, but he was looking right at her. His arms were crossed and there was something about the way his mouth was pursed that kept her hairs right on end. Kenna had been here for a month and not laid her eyes on him once, but there he was— the face of WWE. The face of the company she wanted to control. The most polarising wrestler in the business.

She made a mental note to keep an eye out for him.

—

Later the same evening, when things had calmed down and Kenna wasn't so on edge, she made her way towards The Shield's locker room. Eventually, she wanted to tell Roman what had happened between Dean and herself. She knew it would find the light of day eventually, _especially_ if Dean was going to keep dropping around to check up on her.

"Kenna."

 _Speak of the devil_ , Kenna thought, spinning at the same time she let her lips curve. Roman was in street clothes now, his hair almost dry and pulled back in a loose bun.

"Did you have fun earlier?" She teased, walking right into Roman's open arms.

He squeezed her a little, dropped a kiss onto her head, then intwined his fingers at the base of her spine. "We're in a match against them at WrestleMania," he said lowly.

"You'll win."

Roman grinned at the confidence in her voice. "You think?"

"I know," she whispered, and then she stepped up onto her tiptoes and looped her arms around the back of his neck. Kenna pressed a quick kiss against his lips. "You don't wanna disappoint, do you?"

There was a flash of a challenge in Kenna's eyes and a glint of danger in Roman's as they stared at each other. Yet, as quickly as it was there, it was gone. The grin at his lips became fond and he kissed her again, slowly now, his mouth and hold on her soft. Her fingers threaded loosely through her hair and she curled up and into his body.

She didn't even realise they had a small crowd until Dean coughed with a loud 'ah-hem', and Kenna found herself smiling as she turned her face away from him.

"This is an open space, y'know?" Ambrose muttered. "There are children around. Think of the _children_."

Roman snorted in her ear and slowly released his hold. He kept one arm around her waist and, uncharacteristically, Kenna curled her face into the beefy muscle of his arm so she could hide how pink her cheeks were. She was _hiding_ from Rollins. No one seemed to pick up on it except for her.

"Can I help you two?"

"We travellin' to the next town together or what?"

Kenna could feel Roman's hum through her own body. "Give me a couple, I'll meet ya' out by the car."

"Yep, sure thing hot shot," Dean shot back, and then she could faintly hear their steps as they walked away.

Kenna waited for another moment before she put some space between Roman and his god-like body. He smiled down at her again. "You up for riding with us yet?" he asked her.

"I'll take a rain-check," she replied. "Too many things I gotta sort out tonight. Flights, accommodation, get my hair done, a dress for Saturday night…" Kenna trailed off suggestively and raised an eyebrow. "You got a date for that yet, _hot shot?_ "

He smirked at the nickname. "Was hoping to ask you, actually."

Kenna raised a hand to the side of his neck and ran her thumb along the stubble on his jaw. "Dark red."

Roman frowned for the quickest second, but then he understood that her response had been the colour she was going to be wearing— and that he should be wearing the same thing if they were going together. "Dark red," he agreed with her. "Though I'm surprised you're not goin' in something dark green. S'all you seem to wear."

"Dark red, big dog," Kenna smacked her hand off of his chest a couple of times in a patting manner, smiling around her words. She inched forwards until her mouth was almost against his, her breath falling across his lips, and Kenna's eyes were darting between his sultry gaze and his growing smirk. "I'll see you tomorrow."

And then Kenna turned completely away from him and sauntered down the hallway, sending a wink over her shoulder at a flustered Reigns.

—

Kenna didn't know how long it'd been since she'd thought of Japan. The country, the people in it. She figured being so centred around WWE and The Shield and Roman Reigns also served to keep her attention away from that heartbreak— because that's what Japan was; _heartbreak_. It was something she was happy to _not_ think about.

She'd lied to Roman when he'd asked what she'd done before WWE. Because she'd been at an organisation, just not a detention or juvenile camp. She'd been at a company called New Japan Pro Wrestling. She'd wrestled almost exclusively behind the scenes, never had any real job apart from being involved with the promotions and English commentary; for all of five months, and that was because Japan was only supposed to be a temporary fix to another problem.

And really, everything in her life was either a problem or something she didn't want to deal with. For example, like right now, Kenna just preferred not to deal with more pressing matters and instead chose to go out drinking with people who were supposed to be her enemies.

Randy and Dave and Hunter, the exact men she would find herself fighting against this time next week, and the exact same men that were cackling boyishly, most definitely at her expense.

"You remember that time Adam taught her to spear?" Dave reminisced, his cheeks tinted pink and eyes glassy. "She was like, twelve—"

"Fifteen," Kenna corrected.

"— and tried it on you, Orton, and fuckin' fractured her collarbone."

Randy laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at her, and Kenna just pouted back at him. "I'll have you know that hurt like a bitch."

"If it makes you feel any better, Orton had a bruise on his stomach—"

"Did not, can't prove it."

Dave snorted and rolled his eyes at Kenna, his mouth tugging to the side just a little, and Hunter laughed at the three of them with a gentle smile. While Kenna was definitely younger, she wasn't at heart— Dave, the same age as her step-brother, was the child out of them all, and Randy wasn't too far behind either.

And both of the babies were piss drunk.

Randy, with his red neck and chest, ears flushed too, and Dave with glassy eyes, a never disappearing smile, blushing cheeks, and— something was different. Kenna's observant eyes flickered between the ring that belonged to the man who wasn't supposed to have one and the ringless hand that _was_ supposed to have one. And _what?_ Dave was engaged and Randy… didn't have his wedding band on.

Her eyes narrowed as she looked back at their grinning faces. "S'there something you two not telling me?"

"What?"

"Y'know, the fact there's a ring on your finger, Dave?"

A cheeky grin split his face. "Dunno what you're talking about, Kenzie."

"I would say congratulations, but… you're an ass for not telling me."

Dave sucked in a gasp, pulled a ridiculous face. "Hey! That's offensive!"

"Your face is offensive."

With these three men who were like her brothers, despite one being her actual step-brother, Kenna found spending time with them was easy. Probably, with all things considered, the easiest thing in her life right now.

"What about you, Orton?" Kenna asked after he'd finished laughing. "What's with bare finger?"

Randy's gaze dropped from Kenna and his smile slowly faded, and if Kenna didn't know him any better, she'd say that she was ashamed. But she knew him better. And she knew that look meant he'd fucked up… big time. After a moment of pondering the safest way to answer Kenna, he raised a shoulder. "I cheated on her," he said lowly, "because I needed a way out where she'd hate me."

Her jaw dropped.

"You cheated on Sam?"

Randy nodded slowly and she saw the way his eyes fogged over with tears, that the fingers on one hand were tight around the glass and the fingers on another hand were wrapped tightly in a fist. "Well," she murmured, leaning back against the booth seat. "That's one way to do it."

Hunter cleared his throat and looked down at his watch, sending a pointed look at Kenna. "It's getting a bit late, so I'm gonna head off. Some people have a business to run, y'know."

"That's a new way to put it," Dave teased. He looked at Kenna as her step brother got up, smiled brightly. "I'm gonna go for another round, you in?"

"No chance," Kenna laughed. "You two should try and get back to the hotel, big couple of days coming up."

Randy nodded. "Yeah, think I'm gonna hit the sack, Dave. I'll see you tomorrow."

As much as Batista tried to get them to stay, Kenna and Randy were out of the club in the next five minutes, walking together back to the hotel that was just a little bit further down the street. There was an arm around her shoulder, more of a way to stabilise himself than a drunken gesture she should be worried about, and his speech was starting to slur as he tried to tell her that he wasn't a bad guy— he just needed a break.

"Yeah, yeah, tough guy," Kenna said lowly. "Can't have a heart to heart, always let your actions do the talking for you."

"Yeah, but— she's a bitch!"

"You married her. You've got a child with her. Randy, she's probably going through as much shit as you right now, and Alana's growing up and you're not there for her to see it," the smaller woman tried to rationalise with him. "She's probably feeling lonely and afraid and that's why she's been doing what she's doing. Yeah, you fucked up, but so did she."

Randy groaned, his head falling down on top of hers as they walked in through the hotel lobby, and he sighed again as they stood waiting for the elevator.

"Dunno what I did to deserve you as a friend," he murmured softly.

Kenna snorted and nudged him a little. "I mean, one of your best friends is my step brother, so…"

"You're horrible, I'm trying to be nice."

And when Kenna looked up, the way Randy was staring down at her sent the alarm bells ringing. Despite the fact he was drunk, there was a certain glint and a gentle tilt at his mouth and then he was leaning forward, lips dipping down—

"Orton."

His eyes snapped open as he looked at her— really _looked_ — and then his face dropped completely. "Sorry," he slurred. "Don't gotta say anythin', I get it. So stupid. Sorry. I just… sorry."

Except she hadn't been the one who'd said his name.

Seth Rollins, who stood in the elevator they were about to get in, had spoken the name with a testing pull to his mouth, his eyes narrowed both suspiciously and cautiously. Kenna couldn't make sense of the way his body was tensed. Maybe he was afraid of Orton… maybe he just hated the man. And maybe he thought he'd finally found Kenna out.

Kenna slowly stepped away from Randy.

"Dunno what to tell ya man," Seth said as he broke the silence. "She's a taken woman."

The eyebrows on Randy's face shot to the top of his head. And Kenna realised with a start that she hadn't told Randy or Dave what the fuck she was even doing here— they'd not had the chance to talk about it.

Finally, Randy shrugged. "Thought she was with Reigns, but if you two share her…"

 _What?!_

Turning bright red, Kenna stepped away from her friend in shock at the same time she raised an arm, and the sound of her palm hitting the back of his head echoed through the lobby. "Right, well then, you can stay down here and try and get your drunken ass back to your room, you shit."

His mouth dropped open as she stepped into the elevator, but she didn't miss the twitch of his mouth when the doors were closing.

* * *

 **'Hostage' by _Nothing but Thieves_ and because it's impossible to just choose _one_ song from them, go check out the entire album, _seriously_. **

**sorry about the wait? oh well... here's a longer chapter as an apology and i'm already partway through the next chapter, so that should be out soon.**

 **bless the reviewers and silent readers, the followers, and those that favourite this story- it's all greatly appreciated and gives me more motivation to write. let me know what you think about this chapter!**

 **all the love x**


	14. Way Down We Go

**Way Down We Go**

"So."

"So."

Seth's arms were crossed against his chest but he wasn't looking at her, instead staring at the changing floor numbers. She didn't know whether that was better or worse than his calculating eyes observing her.

"You and Orton friends?"

She nodded. "As much as I hated my brother growing up, we still lived in the same house. He still hung out with people when I was around. Dave, Randy, Shawn, they're all people that I grew up loving. I mean, they beat the shit out of him, why _wouldn't_ I love them?"

Seth nodded quietly, finally gazing at her for a short while. "So you were out catching up with him?"

"Yeah," Kenna said. "Dave was there, too. Almost like Evolution, but better."

He smirked then at her attempt of humour and she clenched her fists behind her back, ducked her head down as the elevator arrived at her level. "I'll, uh… I guess I'll see you on Saturday?"

Seth frowned. "You're not doing any of the Axxess signings?"

"I have a lot to answer for at headquarters for what I've been doing," Kenna shrugged and rubbed the back of her neck. "Hopefully by the time Hall of Fame rolls around on Saturday, I'll actually be employed here. And, uh… no one really wants to see me, anyway."

There was a small smile on his face then. Kenna found relief flooding through her veins and she shrugged at him again, offering a smile back. "Kick their asses on the business side of things and we'll kick their asses in the ring. Sounds like a good partnership, doesn't it?" Seth said, and he finally let the 'open door' button go. "Don't let anything ruin that."

Kenna watched the doors shut and the relief that had been there moments before quickly changed into something similar to panic. Panic, because Seth Rollins was going to figure her out. He was so incredibly smart, so observant, and he was going to catch her one day. _He already had_.

It was a warning.

She let go of a long breath and straightened out her top. Roman was in her room and she needed to tell him what had just happened. She had no other choice, because if she wanted to keep this working, she had to tell him the truth. Where she'd been, that Seth had seen her. That Randy had almost kissed her. And her heart was in her throat already, because this entire thing was suddenly hinged on a hunch that telling him was better than keeping it a secret from him.

But when she walked into the room, Roman's snores were the only noises that met her ears.

Tomorrow, then, she'd tell him.

 _Tomorrow._

—

"I want you to come back to Pensacola with me."

It was said sleepily, his mouth pressed against her hair, and she was curled into his chest like there was not a problem in the world. Except… now, there was. And it was a very big one.

"Huh?"

"I want you to come back to Pensacola with me," he repeated lowly, arms tightening a little. "I want you to see my home, I want you to know where I am, what made me."

Her jaw went slack. "Uh…" and she was never used to being lost for words. "I don't— I don't know, Rome…"

The Samoan pulled back and looked down at her, gave a gentle smile. "Not yet, you don't have to. But, eventually."

Kenna nodded. "Eventually, I'd like that as well."

He dropped a kiss on her head. She knew he probably had somewhere to be, and the only place she needed to be was on a plane to Greenwich, and she wasn't in that much of a rush. Being here, being with him— it was _nice_. It was warm, it was comfortable.

And she was about to ruin that.

"I, uh… you know how I was out drinking with friends last night?" She felt Roman hum his response. "I never told you who they were. And I didn't know how to say it, because… well, because they're them. Randy and Dave. We went for a round of beers and talked about the good old days where they'd beat up Hunter, but… I thought you'd probably wanna know that now instead of finding out about it later. So."

Silence met her ears, and Kenna didn't want to look up at him. "The same as you not telling me about Dean and Seth coming to visit?"

The breath in her lungs stalled. _Who— who had told him?!_

"Yeah," she murmured. "Same as that."

Roman squeezed her a little and breathed into her hair. "Doesn't bother me. Got angry at Dean when he told me, but was kinda surprised you didn't mention it, and then Seth said somethin' like you not wanting to cause trouble and it clicked. Same with last night. You don't know me enough to know how I'm gonna react to this stuff, I get it."

It wasn't the fact that Roman was being logical— it was the fact that Seth had covered for her. She'd trusted her gut and told Roman the truth and her hunch had played out in the right way. But the fact that Seth Rollins had stuck his neck out for her when he was probably the only person who was more than capable of proving she wasn't trustworthy? That sent her mind reeling. _He was a complete wild card,_ and that scared her beyond words. When would he decide that covering for her was something he didn't want to do anymore? And when would he decide to tell Reigns that she wasn't the person he thought she was?

"That why you don't wanna come back to Pensacola with me?"

Kenna'd been staring intently at his chest in a daze, but snapped from it with his words and tried to smile up at him. "I don't want to go to Pensacola with you because I don't think we're at that place yet. It's early days and I kinda… I just wanna have fun…"

It didn't matter that Roman had just woken up. Or that he was bleary eyed and tired. The moment Kenna fixed him with a sultry gaze, he'd sunk his fingers into her hips and yanked her on top of him, eyes stormy grey and swirling dangerously.

"You wanna have fun?" he murmured, teeth biting onto his lip as he pushed her down into the roll of his hips, and Kenna's jaw dropped. "You don't think spending two days wrapped in my sheets would be fun?" He fisted a large hand in the thin material of her shirt and yanked her forward, mouth barely touching hers and eyes that burned through her own. "You 'fraid I'm gonna fuck you so hard you won't make it to RAW? That your brother's gonna be able to _smell_ me on you and come for my blood?"

Kenna's head was spinning with lust, and there was no doubt she was already wet.

A filthy smirk tilted Roman's lips. "Come back to Pensacola with me, see what happens."

Her gaze lifted from his mouth to his eyes and she was so stolen by how _hot_ he was beneath her that she already knew her mind was about to be changed. "You bribing me with sex, Reigns?"

"Best sex you've ever had in your life," he replied.

Inching her face closer to his, Kenna slid her nose along his stubble until her lips were at his ear. "Prove it."

Part of Kenna still didn't want to go to Pensacola with him. She didn't want to meet his family or his friends, she didn't want to leave the bubble that the WWE was, because it was as safe as she was going to get.

Pensacola wasn't safety. Pensacola was losing.

His hands were heavy and every movement his skin made against hers felt like it was falling on dead weight. She wasn't there with him, her mind wasn't with the languid roll of his hips or the pressure of his mouth on her chest, and she certainly wasn't paying attention when his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her underwear.

She didn't even notice that he'd noticed.

"Stop thinkin'," Roman breathed into her ear, "where's your head at?"

"Right here," she whispered back.

He stopped completely. "Don't lie to me."

Kenna raised her eyes to his in more of a glare than anything else, and his narrowed. "You can't bribe me with sex, Roman. I'm not ready to meet your family or your friends."

"I didn't say anythin' 'bout you meetin' my family or friends," he replied cooly. "What's two nights at mine going to hurt? I wanna be in the comfort of my home with you. I don't wanna worry about prying eyes or Seth or Dean interruptin' us, I don't wanna worry about moving onto the next town in time. I wanna lose myself in you for two days."

"What if you don't find yourself after?" she whispered, eyes flickering between his and a blank spot on his chest.

Roman shook his head. "I'll worry 'bout it then."

"And I'll worry about it _now_."

Silence surrounded them and Kenna thought that was it, that it was the end of their disagreement. But then Roman lifted himself into a sitting position and became level with her, eyes staring straight into her soul, and she found she had more to say than just ' _I'll worry about it now'_.

"You don't know a thing about me, Roman," Kenna stated. "You know I hate my brother, that my family was pulled apart because of him. But you don't know _me_. What I like, what I don't like, what I'm like when I'm angry or sad, how to comfort me when I need someone there. You just don't know. So before you invite me back to your home, maybe you should make the effort to get to know me, yeah? Maybe then my answer will be different. For now, it's a no. I'm not going to have you fall in lust with the _idea_ of me."

—

Somehow, Kenna had made it out of the hotel room without Roman completely blowing up in her face. She knew that he was volatile, almost violent, but had never been towards her. It'd been the first time she'd said no to him and she'd expected it to go much worse than it had— but it hadn't.

So now, her mission was to get her hair done before the Hall of Fame, purchase the dress she'd been eyeing off, and find a new safe-place— because the one in California wasn't safe anymore. In the mean-time, she figured she'd just stay in Greenwich with Hunter and buy an android phone that couldn't be easily tracked.

For most of Wednesday morning, she'd spent her time browsing the national realestate East-wards. She'd always been West of Hunter, but now maybe it was time to move a little closer, and somewhere that was definitely much safer. Wednesday afternoon was written off with her hair appointment, where Kenna'd opted to go a shade lighter than what she naturally was, and Thursday morning saw her back at her private beach house with the Hall of Fame gown draped over her arm. By Thursday evening, she was on a plane to Greenwich.

Friday was spent with her nieces and nephews, her distantly related family in the McMahon's, and organising the coming weeks with her step-brother and Stephanie. Vince was beyond happy with the result her efforts were having on the ratings and was pinning for a SummerSlam match between herself and his daughter, but that would be undecided on until Stephanie okay'd it (Kenna would be happy to take the win, and that was the only way _she'd_ ever agree).

Saturday was the day of the Hall of Fame. While Hunter and Stephanie flew down on their own private jet, Vince had volunteered to let her fly with him and Linda. Kenna wasn't in the business of saying no to the big boss man.

"How's everything coming along, Kenna?" Vince had asked animatedly, smiling with his eyes when he sat down across from her. "Hunter says we're moving things along nicely with The Shield."

Kenna raised a shoulder and grinned. "Things are definitely moving. How much do you want to know?"

"Give me all the juicy details," he grumbled, rubbing his hands together. "How's the sex? The evil, conniving planning? Is Roman Reigns all the man he makes himself seem to be?"

She blinked rapidly and tilted her head away from the Chairman, in shock that he'd ask such a personal question, but— really, it was Vince McMahon. He wanted to know everything about _everything_. Which, at times, was creepier than he probably intended it to be. "I was pleasantly surprised by how smart he is. That, and how observant Seth Rollins is. You've got the future of the company in that man."

"And Ambrose?"

"Eh, I'm a bit indifferent on him. More of a mid-card player than anything else. He's unpredictable which you can exploit, but… unless you book him right, he'll never be the top guy."

Vince was watching her closely. "Anything else piquing your interest?"

"The honest to God truth?" Kenna raised an eyebrow, continued when she saw him nod. "Your Diva's division is shit. You've got some of the most talented women in Alicia Fox and AJ Lee, but you don't give them any substance. Programs that don't matter in the slightest, like Curtis Axel and Hunter— what the hell is _that_ , by the way?— get more screen time than building up a Diva's championship match." Kenna shrugged at him and chewed on her lip while she considered what she was going to say next. "You might still think we're in the era of the WWE-made-Superstar, but the thing is… you'll get the biggest sale out of someone who worked through Ring of Honor and New Japan before someone like Titus O'Neil."

"Like who?"

"Prince Devitt. Samoa Joe. Kevin Steen. People you've already signed like Zayn and Rollins. The future of this business is the people who've worked their asses off for an opportunity and the people who will continue to steal the show even when they're a top guy."

It didn't surprise Kenna that halfway through the flight when she'd stood to stretch her legs, she caught Vince with his head deep in old Youtube videos of the guys she'd mentioned. And her legs almost stopped working when she recognised the video he was watching between Prince Devitt and another wrestler at NJPW.

She didn't need to be reminded of something she'd lost.

—

Roman said he'd meet her in the lobby of the hotel before the red carpet event and Kenna wasn't going to suggest somewhere else.

And when she stepped out of the elevator and was met with the sight of the large Samoan in an all-black suit with a silk, deep red tie, she couldn't help from grinning. _He looked so handsome_. Standing next to him was a dapper Seth Rollins and a scruffy looking Dean, but she couldn't take her eyes off her man.

"Roman."

He turned at the sound of her voice and stopped dead when he raked his eyes over her figure.

The dress she was wearing was deep red, a sequinned top thinning out into a plain, floor length chiffon skirt. A pearl necklace dipped into the space between her collarbones and her freshly coloured blonde hair was pulled back into a messy low ponytail, shorter tendrils fanning out across her face. Dark red lips and eyeshadow pulled the look together, and in the red heels she was wearing, Kenna didn't feel so small standing in front of Roman.

He was in awe.

A grin tilted at the side of Kenna's mouth and she curtsied, gripped her clutch a little tighter. Slowly, Roman reached out a hand and trailed fingers over the silver cuff on her left arm, stopping when he entwined their fingers. "You're so beautiful," he said softly. He ducked to press a soft kiss against her cheek, and all the makeup in the world couldn't hide the flush on her cheeks.

"'bout time you got down here," Dean said lowly. "You ain't the only one with a date waitin' on you."

"You've got a date?" Kenna asked incredulously, Roman taking a step back so she could look at the lunatic. "Why don't I believe that?"

"Just because my ridiculous charm and incredibly good looks don't work on you doesn't mean the rest of the female population is immune to me." Dean sniffed proudly and patted down the front of his blazer. "I mean, look at me. Who _wouldn't_ say yes?"

Kenna snorted at him. "I can think of more than a few people."

Dean tried to glare at her, but she could see the gentle curve of his pink mouth. And, in all honesty, Dean really did look good. She wondered who he'd managed to seduce into saying yes when he wasn't stalking her.

Almost like he could read her mind, Roman ducked his head to whisper into her ear. "Renee."

Her eyebrows almost hit her hairline. _Renee?_ Oh, she'd _love_ to hear that story.

She never did.

Kenna was taken aback by the sheer number of old legends that knew her outside of the entertainment business. People like Shawn Michaels and Kevin Nash, who approached her with bright smiles and open arms. People like Mark Callaway and Michelle McCool, who nodded at her from where they stood. Things that happened in full view of Roman, who just stood back and smiled when he needed to smile.

"You know a lot of the people here," Roman whispered into her hair at one stage. "It's like a political minefield, but you know how to navigate it pretty easily."

"I grew up around these people. I know what they like and what they don't." Kenna squared out her shoulders as she stared at her step-brother. "Probably the only good thing that ever came out of being related to him. Now, if you'll excuse me for a little bit… try not to let Stephanie maul me."

Roman sighed. "What are you gonna do now?"

"Vince McMahon gave me a job, and I think we're gonna celebrate it."

And with that, Kenna was walking towards Hunter and Stephanie McMahon.

This may just be the stupidest thing Kenna had ever thought of.

* * *

 **(didn't double check this chapter so errors are 100% on me)**

 **! update!**

 **all the love xx**


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